Behind the Stacks
by laughingnobody
Summary: One of the rules of Castiel's job is to make sure students keep R-rated actions to a minimum behind the dusty shelves of the library. Then he meets Dean, who's willing to break the rules just as much as Castiel is.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel needed money. And he needed it quick. College was expensive as fuck, and it wasn't going to pay itself. Suddenly, one dollar meals at fast food restaurants became too expensive for someone who was lucky enough to find a single nickel on the ground in the hallway. Paper for notes turned into writing on any surface he could get his hands on. Shampoo became the cheap bars of soap the school gave out for free. Not to mention his roommate, Balthazar, who was a rich ass, British bag of dicks, and refused to lend Castiel any money. Starving to death and failing classes wasn't a choice unless Castiel wanted to go back to living with his brother, Gabriel, who had the habit of bringing frisky women home in the wee hours of the night and giving Castiel the responsibility of letting them out in the mornings.

And this is how Castiel finds himself at the college campus library the day after spring break, standing behind several other desperate looking students in a line leading to the front desk, all of them hoping to score a job that paid anything.

When Castiel finally reached the front, he saw an older, gray haired woman, who was sitting down and had more wrinkles on her face than his roommate's ass. She looked tired and fucking _done_ with life, and Castiel was worried she'd jump out of her chair at any given moment and announce that she was retiring.

"Excuse me." Castiel waved a hand. The woman looked up, frowning at Castiel's worn sweatshirt and extreme bedhead. She held up a wrinkly finger and went back to typing on the computers. Castiel blew his overgrown hair out of his face leaned on the desk, trying again.

"May I apply for a job here?" He asked after a moment, intertwining two of his fingers for luck and trying to be as polite as he could possibly manage. The woman clicked her mouse, studied the screen for a moment, and swiveled her chair to face Castiel.

"There are no more slots open. Come back later." She said in a pitched voice too young for the rest of her body, which Castiel disgustingly tried to push out of his mind. He didn't move from his spot, planting his feet firmly on the ground and getting ready to use his failed debate skills to convince her.

"Ma'am, I do really need a job. You see, I'm taking extra courses and—" he started, batting his lashes like the girls he'd seen at the coffee shop when they tried to get a discount on their Frappuccino's, but the woman cut him off.

"Save the talk, sweetheart." She interrupted. "I've heard the same speech over a hundred times today. Come. Back. Later." She turned back to the screen, fake nails jamming into the keyboard.

"I'll do it for half the pay?" He insisted, not quite ready to give up.

"Half the students working here already offered that. You need to do better than that." The woman answered. She grabbed a book from a cart to het right, ran the scanner over it with a beep, and then set it in a cart on her left. Castiel could see that he was being dismissed, but he wouldn't budge that easily. He tapped his fingers on desk, watching the woman ignore him.

Then she stopped clicking and turned to Castiel, sighing. "You really do need this don't you, honey?" She asked.

"I believe so."

"The pay isn't great."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. He couldn't really tell where the conversation was going, but he hoped he liked the outcome.

"I'll see what I can do. Sign this." The woman said, reaching into an open drawer and pulled out an application. "If I like you, you'll come back tomorrow." She slid the paper across the desk and dropped a pen on it. Castiel didn't say anything, still wondering what led the woman to have a change of heart.

"What, no 'thank you'? You think I'm just some mean old hag?" She scoffed. Castiel muttered a thank you and hesitated before reaching for the paper. He skimmed his eyes down the contract, quickly reading all the crap about payment and working hours. A line was drawn at the bottom with an X before it. He popped the cap off the pen and scribbled his name there and then handed the paper back to the woman.

"You start today. Put these back on the shelves," the woman gestured to the pile of books in the cart to her left, "correctly." She stood up and gestured to the hundreds of shelves surrounding them and Castiel winced.

"Of course."

"No one should be eating or drinking, chewing some goddamn gum, writing in the books, folding the corners, or taking anything without checking it out." Castiel nodded and the woman continued, "And while you're at it, you can make sure that no one's doing any sort of hanky-panky in the back of my library." She ordered Castiel, frowning in disgust and shuddered.

"I'm sorry?"

"Whatever you kids do these days behind dusty bookshelves when you think no one is looking." The woman snapped. "I don't need a student to ask why her damn astronomy book is glued shut."

"Oh. People do that?" Castiel reddened and fidgeted with his hands.

"They don't put boring textbooks in the back for nothing, honey." The woman sat back down and the chair squeaked in suffocation. "Now go before I change my mind about the whole arrangement."

Castiel shuffled off and grabbed the handles of the cart, maneuvering it between tables and chairs. He put half books back on the shelves where he hoped was "correctly" then stopped for a quick break.

Castiel walked towards a table where a leather jacket was flung carelessly over the back of one of the four chairs. A boy was sitting on one of the seats, brows furrowed and leaning over what Castiel recognized as a mythology textbook, where he was reading about the goddess Aphrodite. The boy's shirt rode up above his lower back when he shifted in his seat, showing a small bit of tan, smooth skin and he ran a hand through his spiked hair.

Castiel passed by and the smell of cherry hit his nose and lingered in the air from where he just walked. He let the cart go and turned around. He took a step back and sniffed around, trying to find the source of the sweet scent without making it look obvious. His eyes reached the boy's face, where he was rolling a lollipop in his mouth, tongue darting out every few licks. The boy's cheeks moved with his mouth, and Castiel couldn't help but stare, not thinking once that he might come off as creepy. The small actions the seated boy did were enough to make Castiel's heart beat erratically, and he consciously walked behind the seat opposite from where the boy was sitting.

"No food in the library?" Castiel squeaked. The boy looked up and Castiel's eyes widened because _woah, hello handsome_. Brown glasses framed the boy's confused green eyes before realization dawned on him. Then his lips curled into a smile around the stem.

"My bad." The boy dug into his pocket and produced a square wrapper, using his other hand to pull the lollipop out of his mouth slowly, his lips following the round outline of the candy. _This guy is making one simple action look so fucking arousing and he doesn't even know it_, Castiel thought and looked away, biting on his own tongue to keep from giggling like a twelve year old girl. He heard a crinkling sound as the boy wrapped the half sucked lollipop before tossing it into the trashcan.

"All better?" The boy asked, and Castiel dared to look in his direction. The boy's mouth was red from the candy and he lifted his eyebrow, flicking his tongue over his full lips, removing any remnants of the flavor.

"Yeah." Castiel muttered and the boy gave a small smile, freckles spreading along his cheeks.

"Mythology? That's one of my minors." Castiel tried lamely, gesturing to the boy's book. That was a subject he knew he was good at. The boy lifted the book's cover to check, as if he was just now aware of the book he was reading.

"Oh. Yeah, I made the mistake of minoring in cultural studies because I thought, 'hey, anthropology would be fucking great for traveling the world'." The boy said sarcastically, giving a grim smile.

"You travel often?"

"Well, you know, I like to drive across the country, saving people, hunting things, the family business." The boy took his glasses off and scrubbed the lenses between the folds of his shirt.

"You hunt gods?" Castiel said slowly, though it came out more as a statement than a question.

"Family business." The boy repeated and shrugged, putting his glasses back on.

"Hm, interesting." Castiel clicked his tongue and scratched the back of his neck.

"So, uh, you work here?" Dean asked, his gaze fixed on something beyond Castiel's waist. Castiel followed his eyes to the cart half-filled with books.

"Something of that nature. It's my first day."

"Huh. Well, you're kinda too hot to be a librarian." The boy smiled at Castiel's blush then went back to reading, eyes flicking over sentence after sentence. Castiel watched him silently, enjoying how the boy's lip curled when he concentrated hard enough.

"I've read the same sentence five times in a row." The boy mumbled a few minutes later, looking up at Castiel. "So you gonna keep standing there counting my freckles? Or are you gonna sit your pretty little ass down and explain to me what all this crap means?"

Castiel blushed walked around the table, pulling out the chair next to the boy, who stuck a hand out as Castiel sat down.

"I'm Dean by the way." He said.

"Castiel." He took Dean's hand and shook it, admiring the way the boy's hands were just a bit callused but soft and sweaty at the same time. Dean dropped his hand and slid the book in the middle.

"So how can I be of assistance, Dean?" Castiel asked, trying the new name on his tongue, fighting the urge to grab onto Dean's warm hand again.

"All of this." He looked down at the book. His leg brushed Castiel's, and suddenly he was very aware of how close they were sitting. Maybe too close. But Dean continued on as if he didn't notice the way Castiel was trying to control his breathing. "Because I honestly don't know what the fuck any of this means."

"So let's start with the beginning." Castiel instructed, flipping to the first chapter. "Do you know Zeus?"

"The-the one with all the, uh, lightning bolts, like in 'Hercules'." Dean gave him a wide smile like he was a little kid waiting for his teacher to congratulate him on getting the answer right.

"You _are_ bad this." Castiel commented, turning the pages.

"What?"

"Hercules was in no way related to lightning. He was all muscle." Castiel said, daring to reach over and squeeze Dean's bicep playfully, and if Castiel wasn't mistaken, Dean's breath quickened.

"I thought we were talking about Zeus." Dean managed to spit out.

"But you mentioned Hercules." Castiel pointed out.

"The movie." Dean clarified with him. Castiel cocked his head and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't understand that reference."

"Never mind." Dean looked down at his arm where Castiel was still holding it and the boy let go, face turning crimson.

"My apologies. I should learn to improve my interaction with people." Castiel murmured, leaning in, voice almost too low for Dean to hear.

"No, it's cool, man. I don't work out for nothing." Dean gave him a reassuring smile, glancing at Castiel's lips and then back at his eyes. Castiel could see the faint blush in Dean's own cheeks and watched as the boy licked his too red lips. Castiel didn't think he's ever wanted to kiss anyone more, and that made his mind go wild.

"Can I recommend a different textbook?" Castiel asked, leaning back a few inches and watching in enjoyment how Dean's head followed his.

"Yeah. You're the boss." Dean slipped his jacket on and stood up. Castiel lifted an eyebrow as if he was saying "_do you think you'll really need that_?".

Dean followed Castiel through the library, towards the mythology section, weaving in and out of rows all the way to the back, where Castiel usually spent time at if he needed somewhere quiet.

"Hardly anyone comes back here." Castiel muttered, looking for the needed textbook in the shelves through the dim light.

"I wonder why." Dean said. Castiel could hear him walking around as his boots made soft clunking noises on the carpet.

"It's a great place to study without being interrupted." Castiel answered.

"Or other things."

"Is that a euphemism for something?" Castiel grabbed the book he was looking for and stood up. He found himself face to face with Dean and felt his breath hitch. The atmosphere suddenly became heavily tensioned with want and need. The two stared into each other's eyes for quite some time and Castiel was torn between the desire to lean in and kiss Dean senseless or turn around and walk away because he was already thinking about breaking the rules less than an hour into his new job.

"Looks like Aphrodite put a spell on you." Dean smirked when he saw Castiel's expression in his eyes.

"Are you suggesting that the goddess of sexuality is a witch?" Castiel asked shyly, staring at Dean's red lips and running his hand over the worn, wrinkled leather of his jacket.

"You know mythology has never been, uh, my greatest strength." Dean chuckled. Castiel could smell a faint hint of cherry on his breath.

"Well, good thing it's mines." Castiel whispered.

Castiel didn't really know who made the first move, but all he knew was that Dean is kissing him back. Castiel dropped the book in his hands as the flavor of cherry filled his mouth, making every kiss sweet. His hands traveled up Dean's jacket as Dean licked along the boy's lower lip, making him quiver.

It's been a while since anyone's made him feel this way, hell, no one _ever_ made him feel this way, and Castiel was enjoying every moment of it. Then Dean's tongue found its way into Castiel's mouth, and Castiel suddenly found it very hard to breathe. He shoved Dean's jacket off, sweaty hands slipping on the leather, and gripped his arms. A hand slid into Castiel's hair and tugged lightly, making the boy groan. Hands groped where the mouth couldn't reach, and Castiel felt his dick twitch in interest.

"We shouldn't do this here, Dean." Castiel panted, pushing Dean back.

"Mmm, but we are." Dean mumbled against his mouth. "Are you complaining?"

"No."

"Good." Dean scratched at Castiel's scalp, pulling him closer, until Castiel was nothing but a puddle in Dean's arms.

"Watching your hot ass running around like that," Dean muttered, "making it hard _very_ to concentrate." He kissed Castiel again, long and slow, leaving them both breathless. Dean undid the draw string on Castiel's sweatpants and slid his hands inside the waistband, massaging Castiel's ass. "These sweats got nothin' on you, Cas."

"Dean, I've never done this before." Cas managed to stutter, leaning back into Dean's touch.

"Well, the teacher," Dean nibbled on Castiel's earlobe, "has now become the student. I'll go slow. Don't worry."

"Not too slow." Castiel said with a hint of tease in his voice. Dean leaned back and looked at him, a smile forming on his lips. Then his mouth was back on Castiel's, the flavor of cherry intermixing between the two.

"God, you're hot." Dean gasped into his mouth and led Castiel's hands to the bottom of his tee shirt. The boy grabbed it, lifting it above Dean's head in a quick and easy movement and making his glasses fall to the floor. Castiel stopped, trying to bend down and put the glasses to the side so either of the two wouldn't end up stepping on it, but Dean caught Castiel's lips in a kiss, stopping him.

"Just leave it for now." Dean growled a sound that went straight to Castiel's groin.

Dean's lips left Castiel's own for a moment and he used the opportunity to pull Castiel's sweatshirt off. The garment caught around his head and Dean cursed.

"Why the fuck is this so hard to take off." He muttered and finally pulled it off Castiel's head, tossing it onto the dusty floor.

Castiel felt pain along his back when Dean slammed him into the shelf and began latching onto his neck and sucking bruises on it. Castiel gasped and buried his head into Dean's shoulder, running his hands all over Dean's smooth, bare backside. The grip on his waist was hard as Dean pushed his hips forward. Castiel felt an erection on his thigh and jerked his hips against Dean's, unable to control himself, and the boy let out a hiss, leaning back to pull Castiel's undershirt off.

"I just met you, and I'm already so crazy." Dean murmured, rubbing small circles onto Castiel's hipbones and kissed him again, teeth clashing and chests pressed together. Their tongues tangled with one another's as Castiel ran his hands down Dean's arms.

"Is that a good thing?" Castiel asked when they broke apart, feeling strong muscles between his fingers. He leaned into kiss Dean again.

"Only if you want it to be." Dean breathed between kisses. He bent down, hands still moving on Castiel's waist, and swirled his tongue over Castiel's nipple, which hardened under the touch. Castiel made a noise in the back of his throat that he knew would drive Dean crazy, and the thought was confirmed when Castiel felt Dean tighten the grip on his waist. Dean brought his head up and kissed Castiel again, mumbling something about where Castiel had been for the last few months.

Dean rocked his hips against Castiel's as a test and was rewarded with a moan then caught Castiel's lower lip between his teeth, biting it gently. He slipped a thigh between Castiel's legs and the boy rocked onto him, trying to relieve himself against the coarse denim with friction. Dean took his leg back almost immediately.

"_Dean_." Castiel whimpered.

"I'm not gonna let you get off that easily." Dean smirked and used a hand to shove Castiel's sweats down while the other boy undid the fly on Dean's jeans, shakily, but effective. Dean wiggled out of his jeans, boxers still on, and bent down on his knees, mouthing at Castiel's dick.

"You've been a good teacher." Dean muttered. "I should thank you."

"I thought 'the teacher has now become the student'." Castiel panted, grabbing Dean's hair and guiding his head towards his covered cock. Dean pulled his boxers down all the way, exposing Castiel.

"Dean, it's dusty back here." Castiel complained.

"Is that why I haven't seen you around the school? You've been cooped up in this dusty piece of work, like some fucking caged animal." Dean murmured, nosing at Castiel's cock. Without warning, Castiel sneezed, letting his guard down for a moment. Dean squeezed the base of Castiel's dick just in time, keeping him from his release and sending shivers back up his body. Castiel made a wounded animal noise and sagged against the bookshelf.

"Whew. That was close." Dean chuckled, still holding on to Castiel's length, pinching the tip with his fingers. "This would've over a lot sooner if that happened. And I haven't even had my way with you yet." Dean stroked Castiel once then removed his hand cautiously. He set his hands on Castiel's thighs and caught Castiel's cock with his tongue and licking the underside of the shaft, which was already shining and dripping with precome. Castiel gasped and gripped Dean's hair tight, panting his name.

"Be quiet, Cas. We're in a library." Dean said playfully. Then he opened his mouth and swallowed Castiel in one go, eliciting a loud and lewd moan from him that Castiel never knew he could make. He threw his head back into the shelf and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Cas," Dean mumbled around his throbbing dick. His tongue was hot and velvety, too much for Castiel to handle.

"You're not exactly making it fair, Dean." Castiel bucked his hips frantically, but one of Dean's arms was strong enough to hold him back. Dean was bobbing his head slowly, torturing Castiel, whose head hit the bookshelf one too many times. The sensation was enough to make him writhe from beneath Dean's touch, but just not enough to push him over the edge.

"Dean, just _give_ it to me." Castiel moaned, and Dean leaned back. Castiel could feel the way Dean's body was grinding itself on the carpet.

"Oh, I already love it when you talk dirty." He bit into Castiel's hip and licked the area.

"Don't say that." Castiel laughed as Dean left a trail of kisses down his thigh.

"I should say that more often then." Dean took him back in his mouth. When he felt the tip of his sensitive cock brush the back of Dean's throat, Castiel whined loud enough for the whole library to hear. Dean pulled back with a small pop.

"Cas, shut up or I'll stop." Dean whispered teasingly, reaching up blindly to cover Castiel's mouth with one of his hands, and then going back down on him. Dean wrapped his lips around the head, tongue swirling around and teasing the slit on top. Castiel bit into Dean's hand to muffle his sounds, and Dean lightly nipped the tip of his dick, making Castiel yelp.

"I'm gonna—Jesus, Dean." Castiel panted against his hand. He looked down to see Dean's shining red lips around him and Castiel thrust his hips, fucking Dean's mouth mercilessly. Dean placed two hands on Castiel's waist hard enough to leave bruises and held him back. Then he stood up, kissing Castiel hard, and the boy could taste himself in Dean's mouth.

"No fucking patience." Dean said into his mouth. Castiel's legs buckled underneath him, but Dean's arms kept him propped up against the shelf.

"C'mon, Cas. Let go." Dean growled in his ear, and that was it. Pleasure burst through Castiel and Dean's kisses captured his moans. His back arched off the shelf as he clutched onto Dean, trembling, and smearing their stomachs. Castiel was breathing heavily, and Dean kept making breathy little moans that made him tingle all over.

"Let me return the favor." Castiel said after he came down from his high, reaching into Dean's boxers. Castiel stroked his length, trying to see what kind of noises he could pull out of Dean, who moaned into his shoulder as Castiel picked up his pace, fisting Dean's cock faster. Dean bit his shoulder and Castiel winced, but continued moving his fingers, precome leaking from the tip giving him a slick and smooth motion. He squeezed the base of Dean's dick, experimenting, then hearing Dean's short breaths and obscene noises a warm breath against his ear, and, _fuck_, if that wasn't hot.

Castiel turned his head, studying Dean's face, almost turned on again by the pure, blissed-out expression in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, almost completely covered in black. Castiel flicked his wrist once and Dean was gone, biting into Castiel's shoulder and coating his hand. Castiel stroked Dean through his orgasm then kissed him. It was more of a brush to his lips than anything, but Castiel was just as breathless as Dean was.

"Not bad for a first day on the job." Dean mumbled when his breathing became even. He kissed Castiel again.

"I hope I don't get fired." Castiel laughed, detaching himself from Dean's arms. He reached for his undershirt and used it to clean himself up then handed the cloth to Dean. Castiel stuck the book back to a random place on the shelf and pulled his clothes back on, ignoring how jellylike his body was at the moment. Dean put his glasses on and watched Castiel's lean movements. Then he covered the short distance between them and lightly slapped his ass. Castiel jumped.

"We should do this again. But next time I'll choose something interesting." Dean mused.

And that's how Castiel and Dean ended up in the back of the library the next day in the liberal arts section.


	2. Chapter 2

"Last name?" Castiel panted.

"Winchester. Your own?"

"Nova-ah, Dean-ak." Dean bit at his throat and Castiel moaned a noise he would most definitely be embarrassed to have made if he wasn't so fucking turned on by one green eyed man named Dean Winchester.

Now it wasn't Castiel's fault he couldn't keep his hands to himself whenever Dean was around. The guy was just so damn attractive. Castiel loved the way Dean's stubble scraped across his sensitive skin when Dean licked down his chest, or how the rough denim of Dean's jeans seemed to always be a tease against his groin.

Their fourth go around in the library (philosophy section, that is, which wasn't as disfavorable at the duo thought it would be) came to a halt when Jo, Castiel's coworker, walked around the shelf pushing a cart and rammed it into Castiel's hip to get his attention. Dean's mouth immediately went slack around his throat when Castiel jolted, and he bent his head, tucking it into the corner where Castiel's neck met his shoulder.

"This is why God hates me. Fucking Castiel Novak is getting laid more than I am! And he's a damn alpha nerd!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up while Castiel struggled to pull his pants up where it hung loose around his mid-thigh. It wasn't helping that Dean was silently laughing to himself, warm breath brushing the crook of Castiel's shoulder.

"Sorry, Jo." Dean mumbled and looked up into Castiel's blushing face. Dean couldn't tell whether it was from just having a hot make out section or from being utterly embarrassed by Dean's childhood friend. He guessed the latter.

"You know Joanna?" Castiel asked, hair mussed from when Dean tugged on it.

"We grew up together." Dean and Jo answered at the same time. Jo threw her friend a death glare.

"This is quite…uncomfortable then." Castiel commented.

"Nah, it's okay, Cas." Jo waved him off. "I've seen a lot more of Dean than I ever wanted to. He wore a speedo to my fourteenth birthday party." She whispered and Dean stepped back to allow Castiel room between him, the very noticeable tent in his pants, and the bookshelf.

"You're joking." Castiel buckled the belt on his jeans and smiled fondly at Dean. It seemed like he hardly knew Dean, and that their relationship just revolved around sex, which was probably true.

"Jo." Dean warned. "It was in style back then, I swear." He grumbled to Castiel, hoping the blue eyed boy wouldn't notice his shame. He did, though.

"Speedos, Dean? Really?" Jo raised her eyebrows pointedly. "Well I have to get back to work, because unlike some people," she nodded to Castiel and he looked away purposely, "sex was not written in my contract."

"This isn't—uh," Dean threw a hand between him and Castiel, motioning towards the both of them. "We're not—" He scratched the back of his head.

"Save the speech, Dean. I'm tired of coughing loudly to cover for you guys." Jo smiled grimly and rolled away.

"I'm sorry. She's—no I'm not gonna even sugar coat it. She's fucking nosy. Like the little sister I've never wanted." Dean muttered when Jo left, refusing to meet Castiel's eyes.

"Dean." Castiel said softly and he looked up. The boy was about an inch away from his face and _woah_, Dean really did _not_ need to get turned on again by Castiel's eyes.

"Uh." He answered stupidly and Castiel reached up to kiss him, eyes still open.

"It's alright, Dean. I am not here to judge." Castiel said against his lips.

"You're here to get into my pants, right?" Dean joked, trying to ease the sexual tension, and failed miserably when Castiel smiled warmly at him, making Dean's stomach twist into knots.

"Exactly." The blue eyed boy reached up to kiss him again, and Dean licked into his mouth, hands crawling up to fist in his hair.

* * *

Dean looked over to Castiel, who was sitting opposite to him in the library, head bent over an art history textbook. After fooling around for weeks behind the stacks with no signs of stopping or slowing down, this was one of those rare moments where Dean and Castiel weren't in a mood.

Dean liked Castiel. And not just because Castiel had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on a person, which was still definitely part of the reason, but also because Castiel was funny, smart, and witty when he wanted to be, which didn't happen many times, but often enough that Dean still learned to appreciate the guy. But more times than not, Dean and Castiel somehow found their ways to the back to God knows what section of the library, Castiel's back painfully, but still quite arousing, pressed up against the bookshelf, Dean's lips latching onto his smooth skin, studies forgotten.

Maybe if he bought Castiel dinner, Dean would be able to squeeze more words out of him that didn't include the words "Oh, Dean," or desperate moans coming from the back of his throat and vibrating around Dean's lips.

"That would be a nice change." Castiel muttered, and Dean realized he must've said that out loud. He panicked slightly before noticing the half-smirk dancing on Castiel's face.

"Are you saying you don't enjoy…" Dean teased, letting Castiel catch on to the rest of the question.

"I'm still here, am I not?" Castiel's grin grew wider.

"Dean." Castiel called when Dean didn't answer right away.

"Huh?"

"Are—are we dating?" At least Castiel has the good grace to look confident. Dean can't begin to tell Castiel how long he's been asking himself the same question.

"I don't know. _Are _we?"

"Well, we haven't exactly been on a proper date unless meeting at the library a few times a week and indulging in promiscuous activities qualifies as 'dates'." Castiel answered, using his fingers to put emphasis on the word.

"You sound disappointed."

"I don't feel disappointed." Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, then. Castiel Novak, will you accompany me to dinner tonight if you don't have any damn exams to study for?" Dean stood up, trying to make a big show of the proposal by spreading his arms wide out.

"I would love to, Dean Winchester. But you're paying."

"You're the one who has a job!"

"You're the one who keeps distracting me from it!"

"But you're not complaining."

"Of course not."


	3. Chapter 3

"You look different. Is that a smile on your face, Cassie Novak? You're jubilant. It's affecting my intelligence. Go away." Came a British voice belonging to one asshole roommate that Castiel was sure he didn't order off the menu.

Good ol' fucking Balthazar—an only child living off his mommy's money like a spoiled poodle and Castiel was the stray living off scraps. All he had was Dean (at least Castiel would like to think Dean was his) and his studies, neither he took granted for. Plus, who knew why the hell Balthazar was at KSU? Surely not for the sample bars of soap Castiel desperately lived off of ("My skin's peeeeeling!" —insert psycho-maniac British young blonde man running down hallway in silk boxers).

Castiel shut the door and toed off his hand me down black Chuck Taylor's that once belonged to Gabriel and were a few sizes too large. But that was the beauty of high-tops; no one could tell if Castiel walked like a fucking duck from class to class.

"You can't possibly know that I'm content." Castiel retorted. Yeah, he was flustered, who wouldn't be? It was pretty damn exciting to know he was actually on someone's to do list— pun very much intended.

Hell, Castiel knew he was way out of Dean's league, and couldn't even begin to wonder how many times he asked himself why Dean liked him. Like Jo said, Castiel was "alpha nerd". He'd never been on a date before in his life, and thinking of the five hundred ways he could fuck up his first one with Dean wasn't exactly encouraging him.

Balthazar idly tapped the side of his head at his temple. "Psychology major, remember?"

"I believe you're wrongly using the term 'psychology'."

"Plus your clothes always sink of sex when you beg me to wash them." Balthazar didn't need a psychology major to figure what _that_ meant. "So who's the lucky fellow?"

"Excuse me?" Castiel stripped his Dean-scented shirt for a shower, words jumbling up in the fabric.

"You know." Balthazar crossed his legs and looked up at Castiel with a knowing smirk on his face. "Your _boy-toy._"

"My b—it's nobody." Castiel answered a little too quickly.

"The hickeys on your neck say otherwise." Balthazar sang.

Castiel ignored him and crossed the small room in three strides to their shared bathroom that smelled like fucking pansies because living with Balthazar was like being with a damn housewife. He kicked the door shut and pulled the drawstrings of his sweatpants (just doing that simple action reminded Castiel of Dean's own fingers tugging the bow and rubbing small circles into Castiel's waist with callused thumbs), letting them slip down his legs. Freakishly cold showers were Castiel's only option since Balthazar's three hour long baths left the water lacking of more warmth than Voldemort's heart, but at the same time, said cold showers were appreciated because Castiel knew Dean had a kink for his hard nipples.

But Castiel would keep that thought to himself.

Towel around his waist, Castiel stared in the mirror, touching light week old, dark day old bruises on his neck and chest where Dean sucked at his flesh, looking at his near blank canvas and thinking of new places Dean could mark up and name Castiel his.

Castiel grabbed his toothbrush, twirling it between two fingers, and squeezed Balthazar's fancy mint toothpaste on the bristles, scrubbing his teeth vigorously and opening the door with his free hand without thinking twice about covering up his body. He knew he looked good, well, according to Dean. It's kind of funny how someone can can make your self esteem sky rocket out of your body, affecting every action you perform, every word you say.

Castiel extracted a pair of boxer briefs he hoped were clean from his drawer, carefully stepping around Balthazar's papers and his hair sprinkled water droplets onto them. Balthazar grunted.

"I'm going out tonight so I will not be able to help you with your flash card terminology." Castiel said around a mouth of foamy, minty, toothpaste. Balthazar looked up, stared at the hickeys on bare Castiel's chest, and stood up.

"You're brushing your bloody teeth. You're going out? It's only 8 o'clock. Why?" Balthazar narrowed his eyes, took a step forward, and Castiel could almost see the gears turning in his roommate's brain as he put two and two together, though a sock could probably figure out what Castiel was up to. Hickeys plus staying out late plus fresh minty breath _obviously_ equaled _not_ getting laid.

Balthazar's eyes widened and Castiel raced back to the bathroom, slamming the door in the Brit's face and locking it because he really did not need to have this conversation with his roommate who thought Castiel was a fucking _virgin_ with textbooks and baggy sweatshirts galore.

"Oh my god, little Cassie Novak has landed himself a date hasn't he? That's brill!" Balthazar called through the door as Castiel hurried to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth with disgusting tap water. He slipped the boxers on, backwards first, then rearranged them.

Castiel grabbed a razor at random from beside the sink and slathered shaving cream around his neck and face, running the blade along his cheeks and under his chin with rushed ease, careful not to nick himself because Dean's marks were the only ones Castiel wanted on himself. Plus, if he and Dean ended up making out in the restaurant's restroom or his car, which would happen very likely, Dean's stubble on the cut wouldn't be the only thing blood was rushing toward.

"I have a study date. Though I don't see how it's any of your concern." Castiel tilted his head up to get a better view of where he was aiming the blade, since sporting a slit throat probably wouldn't be a good idea for a first date.

"Don't lie to me, Novak. I can practically hear you using my razor to shave your week old beard."

Castiel snorted and resorted to shaving his stubble in peace. He secretly hoped Dean wouldn't shave; Castiel liked the feel of Dean's prickliness brushing his kiss swollen lips.

He wiped his face on one of Balthazar's fluffy towels, loving the soft fabric on his freshly shaven face, and set to do something about his hair. Too much of Balthazar's hair product shit in Castiel's hair would only make Dean's hand sticky if he tried to run his fingers through it, but too little would look like he slept with a leaf blower. God, Castiel felt like a sixteen year old girl going to her first dance. He settled for somewhere in between instead, a mix of naturally messy, like he wasn't worried about it too much, but neat enough to know he tried.

"Don't you dare think about touching my hair product, Cassie!" Balthazar yelled like he could read his mind and Castiel dropped the tube on the floor, clear gel oozing out from it.

Balthazar was leaning against the door when Castiel finally opened it, grabbing his towel and wiping up the mess on the yellow tile.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?! That cost three hundred dollars and was imported from Turkey! You don't just wipe it up like trash!" Balthazar threw his hands to the floor where Castiel was sure he was just making a larger mess.

"Do you have a better idea, psychologist?"

Balthazar sighed. "My roommate is barmy. I don't have time for this." He turned around, rubbing his temples and plopping himself back on the dingy carpet. Castiel left the towel on the ground and followed him out. Balthazar was still muttering out curses.

"And the Oscar for the _best_ roommate goes to—"

"Leonardo DiCaprio, obviously." Castiel interrupted, remembering fondly of one day, at the library as per usual, how Dean was arguing with Jo over whether the actor deserved his Academy Award or not.

"No, me. For putting up with your incessant bullshit." Balthazar muttered. "But good job with the current event." He added, nodding towards the art history book seated on Castiel's unmade bed.

"Thank you."

"By the way, that movie Titanic—the one that he died in?—was complete utter rubbish. I'd go back in time if I could and unsink the damn ship just to get rid of that godawful Celine Dion song. Nearly made me want to smite myself the first time I heard it." Balthazar put his pen (with his name fucking _engraved_ on it in _gold_) to the side of his face and pretended to choke. It was a beautiful image in Castiel's eyes.

"My date doesn't seem to think so." Castiel started. "He said, and I quote, 'Hot damn, Winslet has a better rack than Sammy's man boobs', though I was led to the conclusion that Sam is his brother and that the anatomy of the masculine species do not consist of female pectorals, but Dean insisted—" he heard the words slip out before his brain could process what his mouth was saying.

"Winchester?" Balthazar looked up, suddenly interested. "You're dating Dean Winchester? Don't bite your arm off, Cassie." He spat out a harsh laugh.

"Uh, no." Castiel gave a sheepish smile.

"Good. You're quite out of his league." Castiel frowned but his roommate continued otherwise. "Ah, Dean Winchester. You could bounce a nickel off of that arse, or in in my case, a bar of gold."

"His ass is mine." Castiel growled with a sudden urge of possession, grabbing the pillow from his bed and smacking Balthazar with it. The rush of wind made papers fly in all directions as Castiel's roommate scrambled to collect them while they floated in the air.

"Castiel!" Balthazar yelled, using his full name like he always did when Castiel pissed him off, which he did one too many times.

There was a knock on the door, and the two froze. Castiel thought it would be a funny image to walk into, wearing only boxers himself, hickeys on full display for anyone to see, and Balthazar trying to catch his papers like it was raining money and he was a stripper. It was akin to something you'd see on one of those television sitcoms.

"Open the door." Balthazar hissed.

"You do it." Castiel whispered back. "I'm practically naked." This argument was more than invalid for obvious reasons Castiel would rather not think of with his roommate present in the room. The person rapped on the door again and Castiel heard the unmistakable humming of "Ramble On" from outside. Balthazar raised his eyebrows.

"It's your bloody date, you kink." The Brit rolled his eyes, put his arms down and Castiel huffed, walking over to the door and pulling it open, and there he was, Dean fucking Winchester, wearing a black dress shirt and black jeans that Castiel knew made his ass fucking outstanding. His famous brown turtoise frames that littered the floor their first time together made his green eyes shine and Castiel looked down at his own undressed self and blushed, making the hickeys on his neck stand out even more. Dean smirked at them.

"I'd be lying if I said I'd mind if you wore that tonight, but unfortunately I gotta play by the rules." Dean clicked his tongue, eyes raking down Castiel's chest, and Castiel tried to concentrate on not letting his roommate have a view of his hard on coming to say hello.

"Uh," Castiel's brain seemed to freeze. Dean smelled nice. His stubble was still there, Castiel noticed, and it made him smile. Dean smiled back and Castiel cursed himself for wearing thin fabric over his crotch where a noticeable tent was appearing.

"I thought you didn't follow the rules?" He finally squeaked out. Dean licked his lips and winked.

Castiel reddened even more and turned around to grab a sweater, pulling it over his head, and sliding on a pair of loosely fitted, blue jeans. He could see Balthazar from the corner of his eye, brows furrowed, mouth gaping open as he took in Dean's figure, clearly surprised.

"I'm ready." Castiel said and Dean took his hand, pulling him out of the room.

"Cheerio." Balthazar called with false cheerfulness in his tone.

"Don't wait up for me." Castiel answered before shutting the door.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

-Apologies for hardly any Cas/Dean interaction

-British at its best (forgive me if I've wrongly used any terms)

-Update: Added a few more details (4.7.14)


	4. Chapter 4

"I need to be back by eleven." Was the first thing Cas said when Dean ushered him out of the dorm room.

"Eleven? Dude, Cinderella's got more game than you." Dean rolled his eyes, linking his fingers confidently between Cas' own.

Cas looked fucking stunning in that blue cashmere sweater that made the galaxies in his eyes shine and those jeans didn't do him justice either. The innocent part of Dean's mind wondered and made its way over to the porny side, and soon, Dean had Cas up against the wall, biting his collarbone, throat, the spot just below Cas' ear, the skin that peaked out above the sweater's neck and sucking more marks on the soft flesh, grinding hard against Cas' hips and groin like he held a personal vendetta against them.

Cas' mouth fell open in a gasp, and Dean took advantage of that, sealing their lips together, and thrusting his tongue into Cas' mouth, that fucking talented mouth. He felt Cas' freshly shaven face drag across his own unkempt stubbled one, and yeah, Dean knew well enough Cas got off on the way Dean's prickliness tickled his chin, cheeks, nose, _tongue_, and Dean loved the way the blue eyed boy responded instantly to his horny demands, gripping the fabric of Dean's shirt tight between his fingers, not giving a fuck who could walk out their dorm room right now and catch the duo making out and dry humping furiously against the wall.

"I'm going to wrinkle this." Cas panted between breaths and pulled slightly on the hem of Dean's dress shirt. He raked his fingers down Dean's sides instead, slipping a hand into each of the back pockets of Dean's jeans, massaging his ass and rutting back with just as much enthusiasm as Dean, maybe more. Cas was making these dirty little sounds and grunts of approval in the back of his throat that would probably be best if they weren't legal, and all Dean could do in return was tug and yank on Cas' stupid sex hair and try not to give his dick too much attention, and Dean's glasses were all fucking crooked and smashed between their noses, and it's fucking wonderful, but it's all too much and Dean wants to not screw their first date up and—

He broke off the kiss, hips stilling, and turned his head away when Cas tried to chase his lips. The boy made a whimpering noise of protest and slunk against the wall, sliding his hands off of Dean's ass and resting them on his hips instead. Dean tucked his nose into the junction between Cas' shoulder and neck, planting soft kisses there and mouthing words of incoherence into Cas' flushed skin, trying to control the raging hard on straining in his pants and calm his erratic, and frankly, erotic, breathing.

"What was that for?" Cas breathed out, lips bruised and swollen, face tilted and tinted a pretty pink color. Dean leaned back and stared at the mussed, dark haired boy with trapped between Dean's arms on either side of his head, feeling Cas' length a hard line against his own, and it stifled a small moan out of him.

"Just a little somethin' to get me through the night. You look hot, by the way."

Cas reddened and Dean gave him a quick kiss, eyes open. "As do you." Cas said quietly, and Dean doesn't think he'll ever get tired of making him blush. He pulled away, straightening out his dress shirt.

"Don't leave me hung out to dry, Dean." Cas warned, voice deep and gravelly like he chewed on glass for a living but still soft and sexy as a sweet cherry pie.

"We'll get there. I promise. I don't wanna mess this up." He gave Cas another chaste kiss, pulling back as soon as Cas' tongue snuck out again to sweep across his lips. Cas whined. Dean smirked at that and the moment he turned to head towards the exit, Cas slapped his ass, making him jump.

"What was hell that for, Cas?"

"I learned it from the pizza man."

* * *

_I forgot deodorant _

_I forgot cologne_

_I still have remnants of shaving cream on my jaw. _

—were just a few of the millions of thoughts that ran through Castiel's mind as Dean led him towards his car in the lot. He held Castiel's hand the whole way there, which Castiel appreciated a lot more than he thinks he should have.

"You should drive. I'm not gonna be able to keep my eyes on the road with you wearing that." Dean said, twirling the ring of the car keys around his finger, but Castiel crawled into the passenger seat.

Dean kissed him at all the red lights, getting a few honks from behind when the light turned green and Dean's tongue was still making itself home in Castiel's mouth. Then Castiel told Dean to control himself and drive carefully, ignoring the downright seducing look Dean gave him.

"C'mon. Gimme a little action, babe." Dean patted Castiel's thigh with the hand not on the wheel and Castiel pecked his cheek, and maybe even licked the stubble on it too, but no one has to know.

Dean reached over to switch the radio on, eyes still trained on the road, expertly turning the dial without looking a few degrees left, then right, before settling on a station Castiel was unfamiliar with. Dean looked at Castiel, a grin slowly sweeping across his face, and he banged on the wheel to the beat, moving his body in a wave to the melody, glasses nodding up and down above the slope of his nose.

"_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride._" Dean sang way off key and Castiel laughed.

_I'm wanted dead or alive_

_Wanted dead or alive_

"I used to sing this with my kid brother when we went on road trips." Dean said suddenly, talking loud over the music. Castiel looked over to him, where Dean's lips were quirked up into a small smile. Music pumped through Dean's veins, Castiel could see. You could cut Dean Winchester straight down the middle and musical notes would soar out like prisoners finally seeing the light of day.

_Oh! And I ride!_

Castiel didn't think anyone could sing a guitar solo, but damn, Dean was one of a fucking kind.

"Where are we going?" Castiel asked when the song ended and Dean turned down the volume.

"The Roadhouse. Jo's mom owns the place. You ever been there, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head and Dean continued. "Well, they have a wicked cheeseburger. This is coming from experience." He jolted his thumb towards himself. The light in from of them turned yellow, then red, and Dean slowed to a stop, waiting for Castiel to say something.

Castiel frowned. "I'm don't usually associate myself with junk food."

"It's not 'junk', man. It's friggin' heaven. I said I'd choose something good, remember?"

"I trust you."

"I know you do, Cas. Now gimme one more kiss."

"Dean."

"Just right here, babe, c'mon." Dean tapped his own cheek with a forefinger and his green eyes crinkled beneath the glasses as he smiled.

Castiel signed and leaned across the gearshift, pursing his chapped lips to Dean face, and Dean turned his head at the last second, making Castiel catch his mouth instead. Dean laughed into Castiel's mouth, sucking Castiel's bottom lip into his mouth and the blue eyed boy was grabbing fistfuls of Dean's dress shirt into his hands.

The car behind them honked.

Castiel pushed Dean back into the driver's seat, holding him down when Dean reached in for another kiss. The boy tried to make his blue eyes as threatening as possible and pointed to the road, knowing if they reversed roles, Castiel would have probably pulled the car over like ten minutes ago and gone down to town on Dean just to see that hot, satisfied smirk disappear right off his lips. Dean stepped down on the gas pedal, probably thinking the same thing as Castiel, which Castiel was no longer ashamed of him knowing after being so comfortable around Dean these past weeks. Dean slid a hand onto Castiel's thigh, squeezing it slightly.

"Now I'll drive."

* * *

Castiel spied the Oreo milkshake on the menu and ordered it on whim while Dean ordered the regular for him and Cas. Jo brought the shake over within a minute, smirking at the duo, and Cas immediately sucked the straw into his mouth, Dean watching his throat move up and down with forceful determination.

"Jesus, save some for me, Cas." Dean joked, eyeing the way Cas' lips fit themselves over the blue straw that matched his equally blue cashmere sweater.

"No." Cas said bluntly, then immediately looked up, easing his mouth off the straw and sliding it across the table to Dean's side, murmuring an apology.

"It's fine." Dean slid the half-empty cup back, then propped his chin up with his elbow resting on the table. "How 'bout I just lick it out of your mouth instead?" And Cas almost choked.

"That can be arranged." Cas answered and looked away because, wow, he really didn't need to pop a boner in a public place. But, oh, the irony.

Dean grinned, showing off the smooth, pearly whites Cas had run his tongue over so many times. "You got any siblings?" Dean asked an easy question. He must have sensed Cas' struggle to keep it in his pants and took mercy on him.

"Yes. I have 4."

"Damn. Any of them as cute as you, Cas?"

"Well, Alfie is considerably—" Cas stopped when Dean started smiling.

"That was a rhetorical question, babe."

"Yes, I caught on."

"But, uh, I highly doubt that. Abo—about Alfie I mean." Dean stumbled on the words. "I mean, I've never seen him, but—" Jo took that perfect opportunity to bring over two plates, each with equally delicious cheeseburgers sitting in the middle surrounded by fries, and set them onto the table.

"Enjoy." She smiled sweetly, appreciating them with clothes on, and trying really hard not to remember what she witnessed just a few days ago.

"Eat." Dean told Cas when Jo walked away, pointing to the cheeseburger and Cas picked up a fry.

"No, not the vegetable, Cas. The meat! The good stuff!" To demonstrate, Dean took a huge bite out of his own burger, watching Cas watch him. Cas followed soon after, teeth sinking into the soft bread. His face broke out into a grin and Dean nodded his head.

"Right? Right. _That_ is what heaven tastes like, Cas."

"Heaven taste like your mouth." Cas answered before his mind registered what he said. He looked up at Dean guiltily, but Dean was only smirking at him.

"Well, my heaven tastes like your dick, so eat up, babe." He retorted playfully and ripped apart another piece of burger into his mouth.

"These make me very happy." Cas moaned around a mouthful of cheeseburger and gave a gummy smile to his date. "And what about you, Dean? Please tell me about yourself."

Dean paused, cocking his head over to the side, eyes hazy. "Well, I grew up in Lawrence, moved around a lot as a kid for reasons I'd rather not say. I'm good at mechanics, I guess. I rebuilt my car, worked at my uncle's auto shop until I could afford to go to college. Sammy, my brother, he—he's the smart one in the family. He got my mother's brains and I was stuck with my dad's incompetence. I got suspended from school more times than I haven't, dropped and rode around the country for a while, took Sammy with my a few times. Then I cleaned up my act after my mother died, got my diploma, and now I'm at Kansas State. Majored in electrical engineering, you know, the whole series circuit, parallel, electromagnetic shit." Dean rambled. "I've got a Baby—"

Cas' eyebrows shot up and Dean gave him a wolfy grin.

"Yeah, she's beautiful." He teased. "Got curves, nice rear, and, oh- did I mention she's got a 327 V8 engine?" Dean waggled his eyebrows and Cas reached across the table to slug his arm and Dean caught his hand, rubbing circles into the skin that wasn't callused and scarred like his own.

"The one out there?" Cas pointed with his free hand to the impala parked outside, trying desperately to control the sweaty palm in Dean's hand.

"Yep. Was my old man's before, and now it's all mine." Dean said that sadly, and Cas couldn't pinpoint exactly if the sadness was of regret or anger.

"I've always been afraid to take chances, you know." Dean continued. "One of the reasons I was terrified to leave my brother and go to college— gigantic fucking leap of faith right there actually." Cas didn't say anything, quietly munching on his fries one by one, burger long gone, and Dean drew designs into the palm of his hand. "But here I am. I got everything I need right here with me. I got air in my lungs—"

"Quoting the famous Titanic, I see." Castiel interrupted, trying to lighten the atmosphere, and Dean laughed. "It made you cry, didn't it, Dean? Don't lie."

"Yeah, tears of joy when it ended." Dean snorted. "I mean, Winslet was a babe, but c'mon, Cas. An iceberg. Really? Now c'mon, time for dessert."

Cas gave him a small smile above his empty burger and fries plate. A red stripe crossed the bottom of his face.

"Hey, you got a little somethin' there, Cas." Dean pointed to the left side of his chin and Cas wiped the other side. "No. Hold up—" Dean swept his thumb across Cas' jaw, not missing the way the boy inhaled sharply. Dean sucked his ketchup stained thumb into his mouth, watching Cas' eyes dilate with what he recognized as arousal.

"I could skip dessert." Castiel said quietly, not quite meeting Dean's gaze.

"You kidding me? Cas, Ellen makes a mean cherry pie and I know you love the taste of cherry in my mouth." Dean answered teasingly, oblivious to Cas' intentions.

"No. Dean, I mean it. I could really skip dessert." Castiel did his best to sound what he hoped was seductive, and rubbed his foot to Dean's ankle. Dean audibly swallowed with a click, and Castiel gave a mentally triumphant fist pump to the air.

When Dean spoke again, his voice sounded cracked and rusty, but it was still pure sex to Cas' ears.

"I'll get the check."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Song used: "Wanted Dead Or Alive" by Bon Jovi (SPN ep. 3x16)


	5. Chapter 5

They barely made it up the stairs to the dorm when Cas had to stop and catch his breath, leaning against the railing and trying to calm his too excited crotch, or this would be over a lot sooner than the both of them wanted. If Dean didn't taste like cheeseburgers, which was oddly turning Cas on, it'd be a lot easier for him to walk up at least two steps without Dean trying his best to stuff his hand down Cas' too tight jeans.

"Dean." Cas groaned when Dean wrapped two strong arms around Cas' waist, pulling it towards his own hips.

"Staircases, Cas? Really? This is what gets you all hot and riled up? I should do this more often." Dean flicked his tongue over the soft spot behind Cas' ear.

"Shut up." He cried out. Dean kissed him and slipped a thigh between Cas' open legs and Cas rut down on it without a shred of dignity. This continued for a while, Dean's tongue playfully poking and chasing Cas' tongue in his mouth, and Cas grinding against his thigh like he rode horses for a living.

"Okay okay." Dean finally managed to detach himself from Cas' lips and took his hand instead, pulling him up the stairs and Cas giggled along the way, face flushed red and lips swollen. Dean stopped in the hallway to shove his tongue down Cas' throat once, then turned him around and pushed the blue eyed boy against his shared dorm room door.

Cas took the key from his pocket and fumbled with the lock, Dean breathing heavily into his ear and rubbing his hard on against Cas' ass. The door opened with a click and Dean wrapped an arm around Cas, pulling him into the room, not bothering to turn the lights on, and kicking the door shut behind them.

Dean pushed Cas' up against the back door, strangely reenacting their time behind the stacks, and the boy let out a hiss. Dean covered the sound with his mouth until Cas sunk into his kiss, hands reaching up to tug Dean's hair, then pulled back to look at the boy trapped in his arms. He leaned in to kiss Cas again quickly, and leaned back, teasing Cas, enjoying the way Cas tried to follow his head.

Cas made some sort of pained sound and Dean ran his hands down Cas' chest, loving the feel of the cashmere covering the sharp planes of Cas' stomach. He pulled the hem of the sweater up and above Cas' head, tossing it to the floor, and Cas gasped and sagged against the wall when Dean brushed his nipples with the tips of his callused thumbs. Yeah, Dean didn't believe in God, but _this_ he could worship.

This was the first time the word _beautiful_ popped into Dean's head when he saw Cas. They've done this a million times before, but being with Cas (and with a bed in the room—finally) made everything seem more intimate. He wanted to take care of Cas and call him his own.

God, when did he become such a girl?

Cas pushed lightly against Dean's still shirt covered chest self-consciously when Dean continued to move his eyes up and down Cas' naked chest as if he was deciding what to do first to unravel Cas completely.

"Dean?" Cas asked softly, sensing the atmosphere had changed and gently setting palm on Dean's left shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm just—sorry."

Cas gave him a warm smile and took Dean's glasses off with his free hand, gently folding them, then untangling himself out of Dean's arms and setting the pair on the night stand next to his unmade bed. Cas turned back around, reaching out until his fingers found the buttons of Dean's dress shirt. He pinched one between his index and thumb, then looked up at Dean, mentally asking if it this was alright. Dean nodded.

He held Cas' wrists in his hands as the boy's fingers swiftly undid each button, breath catching in his throat as Cas slipped the shirt off Dean's arms. It dropped to the floor as Dean loosened his grip on Cas' wrists to reach behind his neck and pull the undershirt over his head. It tangled in his hands and Cas laughed, kissing Dean on the nose as Dean fumbled to get the shirt out of his hands.

Cas sucked in a breath when Dean popped the button off of his jeans, tugging the zipper down and rubbing his thumbs on Cas' hipbones. Dean slipped his fingers through the empty belt loops of Cas' pants and pulled them down, boxers and all. He stared at Cas' half hard cock for a second, the dark hair on his abdomen trailing down, before Cas shifted awkwardly, then Dean was shoving his own jeans down without bothering to undo the button or zipper. It crowded around his feet and he put hand to Cas' chest to keep his balance as he stepped out of his boxers. Dean took his hand back and the duo looked at one another nervously, and Dean realized that this was the first time him and Cas had actually _seen_ each other.

It felt like their first time, but it wasn't, which Dean kind of regretted.

Cas was the first one to make a move, leaning in and planting one on Dean's lips, pulling him in flush against his own body. Dean stepped forward and Cas had to bend his back to be able to reach Dean's mouth with his own. Then he pulled away.

"Wha—?" Dean mumbled stupidly.

"Dean, don't you think that migrating our—" Cas used a hand to motion towards their crotches brushing against one another, "—towards an actual bed would be a huge leap of faith?"

"Yeah, but we're dating now and I trust you. So what the hell?" Dean shrugged and leaned in to kiss Cas again.

Cas felt the back of knees hit the bed and he fell backwards, Dean crawling on after him with surprising confidence.

"You know, now that I think about it, you didn't tell me anything about yourself, babe." Dean knocked his chin against Cas' growing erection.

"Then what was the purpose of our da—Oh, Dean." Cas gasped when Dean tongued the slit of his dick.

"Well, now you taste like my favorite food in the world, which is a huge plus." Dean reached up and licked into Cas' mouth, tasting faintly of cheeseburger and Cas' spunk. "Well, actually pie is, but you wouldn't let me have any, so I'm rooting for cheeseburgers right now." Dean continued. "See? We're learning more and more about each other, Cas. This just isn't how I really pictured doing it."

"You sound disappointed." Cas gasped, wiggling his hips and shivering when Dean licked a stripe up his cock.

"I don't feel disappointed."

"Good. Please continue."

"Where's your roommate? The blonde dude I saw earlier." Dean kissed a trail up Cas' thigh, then up his stomach and chest, sucking a bruise into his skin before nosing his face in the warmth of Cas' neck.

"Balthazar—Jesus, Dean—" Dean licked the soft spot behind Cas' ear and the boy squirmed, "—is probably out enjoying Cards of Humanity with the rest of the so-called 'alpha nerds'."

"You're an alpha nerd." Dean pointed out and smirked. He leaned on his elbows and gripped Cas' hands on either side of the blue eyed boy's head.

"Yes, but the difference between me and them is that I actually managed to score a date." Cas laughed.

Dean tilted his head, considering that. "Touché." He said finally, tucking his head and kissing Cas again. "And who's this guy you scored a date with, again? Remind me 'cos I might wanna hit him up later." Cas laughed again and sighed happily.

"Ah, I don't remember. Winchester, if I recall correctly? He's has brown glasses, green eyes, and a '67 Impala."

"Oh, really?" Dean leaned back.

"Yes, and he's also very attractive and eye pleasing."

"That—that almost sounds like me!" Dean exclaimed and kissed a laugh into Cas' mouth.

"And he's _great_ in bed. Well, as far as I can tell."

"Fuck. Then I just have to compete with him. But everyone knows who's really boss here." Dean said smugly, pointed his thumb towards himself and flexing his bicep, waggling his eyebrows at the same time. Cas fell into a fit of giggles and turned his head to muffle the sounds into his pillow. Dean kissed his temple, both somehow tucked snugly beneath the covers, and Cas thought it was probably the most intimate they've ever been since they first met, despite his dick being in Dean's mouth just moments before.

Sure, Dean had pleasured him many times before, but those were just quickies that lasted five minutes top—and in public. It's hard to drag out pleasure when you've got one eye on the clock and ears open to keep watch for people rounding the corner.

Maybe Dean could be the person Cas brought home during holidays, or the one who brought him soup when he grew ill.

"Cas?" Dean nosed his hair. "You didn't fall asleep on me, did you? 'Cos I know I'm bad, but I'm not _that_ bad."

_No, you're fucking great, _Cas wants to say. "No, I'm just thinking." He muttered instead and faced towards Dean, who was hovering above him, grinning.

"Okay." Dean kissed him again, and it was slow and sweet this time as he learned how to map out Cas' mouth with his tongue, like trying to memorize it for a test. Cas sighed into the kiss and—

"No no no no. God my eyes." Cas didn't hear Balthazar's dress shoes that sound too much like heels when he walks around in them, much less the door even opening.

"For Christ's sake, Cassie, put a damn sock on the knob when you're—" he gestured to the duo, who were still wrapped up in one another, Dean breathing heavily against Cas' cheek. Balthazar was carrying a bucket of ice in his hands, still in his silk pajama pants.

"Apologies." Cas squeaked.

"I'll be—" Balthazar pointed to the right with his free hand, "—down the hall at Chuck's." He closed the door and left. Then Dean looked at Cas and chuckled, which turned into a fit of laughter that had them both gasping for air.

Then Cas tried to put on his serious face, and Dean mimicked him, pursing his lips. Cas resisted the urge to laugh again.

"Dean Winchester, you have five minutes to get your shit together." Cas growled and Dean smirked, licking down Cas' stomach again, loving the way Cas moaned at his unshaven stubble dragging across the sensitive skin.

"Is that a challenge? 'Cos I can stretch it to twenty." Dean looked up.

"Is _that_ a challenge?" Cas raised his eyebrows, staring back at Dean.

Dean didn't say anything but crawled back under the covers so Cas couldn't see him, but the boy felt two strong hands on his thighs. Dean licked his way down, tucking his face into the space between Cas' groin and leg and flicked his tongue over the groove between Cas' balls, eliciting a breathy and desperate moan from above.

Dean fought the urge to grind into the bed, where his painfully erect dick was trapped between his stomach and the bed. Dean bit the inside of Cas' thigh, and Cas writhed below him, pleading for Dean to just suck him off.

"Geez, Cas, don't you want me to take my time?" Dean heard ruffling against the pillow as Cas shook his head and he chuckled.

Dean gave himself another minute of nosing the soft spots of Cas' groin before he peeked out from under covers. Cas was gripping the sheets tight, cock leaking pearly drops of precome from the tip onto his flat stomach, and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, something Dean recognized Cas did when he was close. He used a hand to reach up and squeeze the bud of Cas' nipple; it went hard instantly under his finger tips and Dean had to bite back a moan from escaping. This was Cas' night. He was supposed to pleasure Cas.

"Dean, please." Cas begged, voice wrecked, tossing his head from side to side, dark hair splayed across his forehead.

"Okay." Dean dug his nose into Cas' hip, inhaling the smell of cheap soap and sex and a hint of honey. "But only 'cos you said please."

Dean pushed up and leveled himself to Cas' stomach, catching the tip of Cas' cock between his lips, swirling his tongue around, giving soft, tentative licking and sucking, loving the salty and bitter taste of Cas.

Cas moaned, deep and throaty, thrusting his hips up, and if Dean wasn't already leaning back, he would have gagged. Then Cas' cock was buried deep in Dean's throat again, and he hummed around it, making sure Cas could feel him. Dean slipped off, giving himself a few seconds of grinding his dick on Cas' leg, trying to relieve himself of pressure.

Cas looked down at him, eyes half lidded and dark, chapped lower lip bitten to the point of bleeding, and Dean reached up to kiss him, soothing his tongue over Cas' trembling lips, making them soft and wet again.

Cas was struggling not to come as Dean carefully repositioned his lips around the head and swallowed him in one go. Cas let out a lewd shout, knocking his head back into the pillow. His hands fisted in Dean's strands of hair and tugged harshly.

Hot, wet, tight muscles of Dean's throat clenching around his length, and Cas looked down to see his cock sliding out of Dean's mouth when he took a breath, then gasping when those lips wrapped around his tip again, cheeks hallowing, and Cas could feel exactly where Dean's tongue was moving against his skin. Dean's fingers trailed down to his balls to massage them between his fingers, and Dean felt how tightly stretched they were, just how close Cas was to losing the battle against want and need.

It took Dean a few seconds to realize Cas was pulling him up. Dean pulled off his dick with a pop, spit following his mouth. Dean moved up the mattress, shuddering when his cock slid across Cas' own, and Cas reached down to lick Dean's lips, tasting himself and tasting salt from the fries on Dean's mouth.

"Come with me." Cas said breathlessly when they pulled apart, pupils dilated and almost black, and Dean nodded once before wrapping a hand around him and Cas, pumping slowly and trying to find a rhythm good enough for the both of them, savoring every moment.

But Cas was active as hell, fucking into Dean's fist faster, making little grunts and breathless noises that brought Dean closer and closer to the edge. Dean rolled his hips against Cas', trying to meet his demands, pleasure spiraling higher and higher just out of reach.

"Oh, god." Cas moaned, almost a whisper, as Dean's hand moved up and down their shafts, precome making everything a smooth and slick motion. Dean was too focused on Cas' face and the noises he could pull out of him, he almost didn't notice his orgasm ripping out through him, reaching toward every part of his body with a jolt, and he pumped faster, trying to ride out the high like a tidal wave. Dean didn't even have time to catch his breath when he felt sweaty hands on his face and he looked up.

"Kiss me." Cas mouthed, and Dean leaned in, sealing their lips, feeling Cas' hips stutter and back arch beneath him as Cas reached his climax. Warmth pooled out between Dean's fingers from where he was still holding them, and he collapsed on top of Cas, whose chest heaved up and down, not giving a damn about the mess across his chest.

The duo lay there for what seemed like hours, exchanging small, sweet kisses, trying to calm their breaths and making no move to stand and wipe themselves. Then Dean whispered, "That was fun," and Cas threw out a laugh that danced through the dark room and made Dean smile as he wrapped his arms around Cas' waist, pulling him in closer and tucking his head beneath Cas' chin.

As Dean lay there, head moving up and down on Cas' chest to the beat of his breathing and holding Cas tighter, intertwining their fingers as they drifted off to sleep, Dean thought he might just be falling in love with this boy.

* * *

And if you happened to pass by Castiel's dorm at exactly 9:56 on a Friday night in late March, you would find one blonde roommate in silk pajamas sitting outside, cradling a melting ice bucket and begging to be let in.


	6. Easter Egg Hunt Chapter Five and a Half

**Author's Notes:**

Ficlet that doesn't really have anything to do with the plot (if any plot), but I had time. Happy Easter!

* * *

There was a plastic egg on his pillow in front of his face when Dean woke up. It was blue, with three pink stripes running horizontally around it. His mind fell to Sam, who had more girl in his eighteen, six-four figure than Jo, but Dean remembered that he's not at home and Sam isn't even in college yet.

His second guess went to his roommate Benny, and Dean's head was in that faze where everything was still pleasantly fuzzy and nothing made sense, so it took him a few seconds to realize Benny might be more manly than Schwarzenegger and didn't have time for friggin' arts and crafts.

Jo wasn't allowed in Dean's dorm anymore ever since she used his spare key to toilet paper his furniture last Halloween and he still held a grudge against it. Plus Jo would kill herself before admitting to decorating an Easter egg.

Maybe it was Cas. Dean smiled into his fort of blankets even though it was 70 degrees outside, blindly groping his pillow for the egg. He squeezed the sides and it popped open, confetti and glitter exploding all over the bed. Dean sneezed.

He ignored the mess and dumped his sheets on the floor, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back until he heard and felt a satisfied pop. The ceiling was blurry and he slipped on his glasses. Dean glanced down towards his feet, where the slight hill in his boxers told him he needs to get to Cas' pronto to fix it.

But Cas is at Easter Sunday church, Dean reminded himself. He looked over to the alarm clock on his night stand and calculated the time until Cas got back. It was 9 in the morning, which gave Dean just over an hour and a half to drive to Walmart, which he knew was open today because it's friggin' Walmart, buy as many of those mini chocolate Easter eggs, and plant them all over Cas' room.

One problem Dean's sleep drunk brain failed to mention: he couldn't get into Cas' dorm without a key.

There was no way Balthazar was going to let him in. That's a damn true fact right there. The guy your roommate was fooling around with and who you saw practically naked was not getting any mercy. Plus leaving Balthazar to sleep in the hallway, since he walked in on Chuck and Becky getting it on after interrupting Dean and Cas' date night, wasn't going to give Dean any brownie points either. And Dean should have thought about that and gone back to sleep.

But he didn't.

So there Dean was, standing in front of Balthazar with a plastic bag full of chocolate eggs in his two hands, glasses crooked from sprinting up the stairs because, Dean checked his watch, and oh, wow, he had only 10 minutes. He really should have skipped the warm shower.

"Please."

"No, you idiot. Do you know how many insects you'll attract?"

Dean shifted his weight to his left foot. "I'm majoring in entomology. Chocolate doesn't attract insects." He lied.

"Cassie told me you were studying engineering." Balthazar leaned against the wooden frame of the door, narrowing his eyes. "And what part of 'no' escapes your understanding?"

"Fine. I'll just wait till Cas gets here and we'll have sex on the carpet. With the chocolate." Dean shrugged and walked away slowly. He smiled when Balthazar grabbed his shoulder harshly and turned him back around.

"Screw you, you imbecile." Cas' roommate muttered before leaving an opening between him and the doorway. Dean smirked and waltzed on in, feeling like a million bucks, but not really since he was a poor college student just like everyone else and could barely pay for the chocolates, let alone gas for his Baby.

Balthazar mumbled something about getting air fresheners and Febreze and a sleeping bag before slamming the door shut and leaving Dean alone with the chocolate.

Dean tore open the cardboard box, grabbed a handful of the small eggs, and placed one under Cas' pillow, a few in his drawer, one in pot of the dead potted strawberry plant Cas always forgot to water, one in his folder, his textbook (it smushed between the pages and Dean made a mental note to tell Cas about that later), chair, window sill, backpack, next to his toothbrush, beside the bar of soap, everywhere until the box of Easter mini chocolate eggs was empty and Dean kicked the box under Balthazar's bed.

Dean looked around the room, puffing his chest out proudly, then wretched open the dorm door and ran straight into Cas, who was bent over the knob with his key in his hand. Cas lost his balance and fell over when Dean's stomach hit the top of his head and he went down with an oomph noise.

"Dean." Cas looked up at him from the floor.

"Hiya, babe." Dean smiled at Cas' beige sweater that looked about two sizes too big and went past his hands. He held a hand out and Cas took it, pulling himself up and reddening.

"Wha—what were you doing in my dorm?"

"Uh," Dean pulled out the blue plastic egg from his pocket, which was a little bent. "Did you do this?" He asked.

Cas gave a shy smile and looked down so his dark hair was covering his blushing face. "I might have had time on my hands." Cas shuffled said hands nervously and looked up.

"I like it." Dean said and leaned it to kiss him.

"You taste faintly of chocolate." Cas commented when they pulled apart.

"I snacked on your present. C'mon." Dean took his hand and pulled Cas into the dorm. "Find the eggs." He pushed Cas into the middle of the room.

"What?" Cas turned to look at Dean, squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the side.

"Just—do it. It's an Easter egg hunt. Of chocolate."

Cas spotted the first chocolate egg Dean taped to the back of the door. Then the ones in the bathroom. Then the one in his shoe. Then the one snuggled in the dry dirt of his plant. Then the one balanced at the top of the bulb in his lamp. Everytime Cas found an egg, he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, seemingly immune to stomach aches.

Dean never got tired of staring at Cas' ass as the blue eyed boy ran around the room looking for hidden eggs. It reminded him of seeing Cas run around the library putting books up on the first day, how the hem of his sweater rose up and peaked out pale skin when Cas reached up to the top shelf, how his hair was sticking out in odd places like he just rolled out of bed, how his fingers—

"It's not nice to stare, Dean." Cas said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

"You just look—kind of sexy. Reminds me of when I saw you at the library for the first time." Dean answered, appreciating the shade of crimson traveling fast up Cas' neck, ears, cheeks.

"In that case, you may continue...admiring me."

"I'm sure I can admire you in other ways." Dean suggested, and with that they fell onto Cas' bed, laughing and kissing chocolate out of each other's mouths.

* * *

Balthazar stood in the aisle at Walmart, trying choose between Hawaiian Aloha Air or Spring & Renewal Air, when his phone rang. He put the Febreze air fresheners back on the shelf and slid his finger over 'slide to answer' on his phone, then put up to his ear.

"Hello?"

The only sounds that came out of the receiver were gasps and moans.

"Bloody hell, those randy arses!" Balthazar looked at his phone then put it back to his ear, trying to ignore the dirty noises. "Cassie, if you butt dial me one more time, I'm going to shove this air freshener up your arse so far, you'll be farting Meadow Air for a year!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes:**

Excuse the poetry at the end. I tried my best.

* * *

A fat 'D' was printed in red at the top of his English exam, followed by a 'See me after class in my office', when Professor Singer handed it back to Castiel at the end of his Monday class. _Fuck_, he sighed softly. Castiel needed at least a 3.5 GPA to maintain his scholarship and the only D he was wanted was—

Someone nudged Castiel's back with their knee and the boy looked behind his shoulder to where Dean was sitting in the row above him, holding his paper up in a way so that it was facing Castiel. A pretty 'A' sat in an unequal circle drawn at the top of his paper and Dean gave Castiel a proud, lopsided grin above his exam sheet, peaking over Castiel's head to see his grade. Dean frowned, then shrugged when he spotted the fourth letter of the alphabet making an grand appearance on Castiel's paper.

"It's not that bad, sugar pie." Dean whispered, winking. Castiel blushed furiously and quickly broke eye contact with Dean, folding his test in half before shoving it into his book bag, because there was no reason to sport a goddamn hard on, in class if Castiel may add, if Singer might offer him extra work to do after.

"It dropped my GPA, Dea—honey bunch." Castiel answered haughtily.

Ever since their "first date", Dean had shown his affection for pet names, knowing it made Castiel blush every time Dean called him 'Blossom butt', 'Eyecandy', 'Jelly Bean', 'Love bug', or 'Pudding' (Dean spent almost two hours going down a list alphabetically while Castiel studied for the very test he almost failed), and Dean liked making Castiel red. Even now, two and a half weeks after their "first date", Dean kept saying how he never had sex on the first date, and that Castiel was special to have gotten him in bed—without dessert. Castiel felt proud for that.

"It has come to my attention," Professor Singer was saying at his podium made entirely of car parts, "that all you idjits don't know how to study for a damned test." Castiel looked around the room and noted many 'F's' on his classmates papers, suddenly feeling proud of himself for getting a 'D'.

"What is this, Canada? English was your first language, you idiots." Singer rolled his eyes.

"Actually, Canada is an English-speaking country, Prof—"

"I was raised in France, _Professeur_."

"And how hard is it to just open an English B book and study that crap? It ain't rocket science." Singer continued, ignoring them. "Story of my damned life." He sighed.

"It's difficult to find a textbook that consists of all the material we covered in this class." Someone called out.

"Then go to the damned library and search for one! What is this, a freakin' scavenger hunt? I wasn't aware my class was full of kindergarteners." Singer threw his hands up in exasperation. Dean coughed and let his arm fall on the desk, fingers drooping over the edge, where they idly found their way into Castiel's hair, lazily twirling the dark strands.

"We could do some searching, Cas." Dean mumbled, tugging his hair lightly.

"I don't have time for this. I gotta go home and get packing for the damn apocalypse you kids are gonna start with your stupidness." Singer paced back and forth at the front of the room before speaking. "I'm assigning mandatory extra credit. It's National Poetry Month so write a poem, no more than 200 words. Write it with a partner, write it by yourself, I don't give a damn. Hand it in by Wednesday. I'll boost your grade up by a letter. This goes for all you A-er's too. That means you, Winchester."

Castiel felt the hand slip from his head when Dean raised his arms as if he was saying, _I didn't do anything!_ There was a faint buzzing sound that traveled through the room.

"Yeah, yeah, quit your future bitchin'. And what do I get out of giving you EC? Jack with a side of squat. Don't look at me like that. And, oh! If you have a 'See me after class' on your paper, don't bother. Class dismissed."

* * *

"We could write one praising your cock. Or I could write it if you'd like."

Dean ruffled Cas' hair as he passed by the boy sitting on the floor with his legs bent yoga style, a used English textbook resting on his thighs and bent English exam in one hand. Dean's own test was on the floor next to him.

"I don't understand how number three is wrong." Castiel muttered, flipping through the book and skimming his eyes over a page before turning to another. Dean grabbed his test, reading the answer out loud.

"Numero tres. 'In the excerpt shown above, the writer uses a simile to compare sunflowers to humankind and their desire for eternal life.' There, that's the answer, sugar pie. Now about the poem…"

"Dean—" Cas started just as Dean's phone rang and "Baby Got Back" sounded through the room.

"Son of a bitch. I'm gonna kill him." Dean slid his phone out of his pocket and hurried to answer it. "Hey, bitch. Good to hear from you. 'Was starting to think you forgot all about your big bro."

"_Of course not, jerk._" Answered Sam on the other end of the line. "_How's the college life? We haven't talked since spring break. It's not the same without you at home. You get any exams? It's already April."_

"Yeah, surprisingly, I got an A on my first one. One down, like eleven to go? Dunno. Lost count." Dean looked over to Cas, who was staring at a brown stain in the middle of his textbook with a confused expression on his face. Dean suppressed the urge to smile when he remembered their Easter together.

_"You're actually doing well in school. I'm proud_." There was a shuffle and Sam paused. _"Dad says he's proud too, Dean."_

"You're always proud of me, you freak." Dean ignored the comment made by his father, and turned to walk towards the window. A group of eight was sitting outside on the grass, singing, a few with tambourines and one with a guitar.

"_True._" He could hear Sam smiling through the phone. "_So, you're doing okay?_ _How're you holding up?_"

"Dude, honestly, all this studying is making my brain shrink like a dick on steroids."

"_That's—ironic, seeing that obtaining more knowledge should only make your brain strength gro—_"

"Whatever, Sammy. See? Nothing's changed. You're still the smartass in the family."

"_I'm just saying you've been so focused lately. I mean, since you obviously can't visit Dad and I whenever you want to anymore 'cos of your schedule, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but you should go out, make new friends and 'get some' or something._" Sam sighed, a sound between disappointment and hope.

"Hey, I get some 'some' all the time." Cas snorted from somewhere behind Dean.

"_Really. When's the last time you got laid, Dean? Spare the details._"

Dean glanced over at Cas again, who was still bent over the textbook and furiously turning pages. "Two days ago." He answered.

"_Liar_."

"You can actually talk to him right now if you don't believe me." Cas looked up and an expression of panic crossed his face. Dean used a hand motion to signalize that he was joking by angling his fingers towards his neck and shaking his hand.

"_Him?"_

"Yeah, his name's Cas."

"_Wow. Are you guys, like, _together_ together? Like boyfriends?" _Dean could practically see his little brother giving him a toothy grin and jumping up and down like the six-four fangirl he is.

"Uh, honestly, I never really thought about it."

"_Why not?" _Sam pressed.

"I don't know. Just never did."

"_Why not?"_ He asked again.

"Man, what did I say about the chick flick moments? This whole thing—it's complicated. That's all." Dean closed his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He didn't acknowledge Cas cocking his head to the side when he said that.

"_It doesn't sound complicated, Dean. I mean, I don't know the guy, but you like him and he likes you, I'm assuming, and from what you said before, it sounds like you guys have se—_"

"Finish that sentence and I will visit you right now and shave your head."

"—_sets of tasks to accomplish, of course._" Sam laughed nervously. "_Need help with any homework?" _

"Actually, yeah, I'm glad you asked. Thank you, Sammy." Dean said sarcastically.

Sam huffed.

"Me and Cas, we gotta write a poem as EC for Singer's—"

"_Bobby?_"

"—yeah. And we need topic ideas."

"_Uh, let me check Yahoo answers…_"

"Dude, I could've done that." Dean heard his brother set the phone down, and then the clack of typing keys replaced the silence.

"_But you didn't. Okay, uh, feelings, nature, songs, war, love, peace, laughter, trees, technology, snow, spring, summer, winter, fall, the months, weeks, days, years, et cetera. _" Sam rattled off. "_I mean there's a whole list of things to write about. Just find something you like, like this 'Cas' guy, for example."_

"Alright. Thanks. I'll look into it later. I gotta go, Sammy. I'll talk to you later, okay? Love you."

"_You too_. _Bye, Dean_."

Dean pressed the end button on his phone and threw it on Cas' bed. It was good talking to Sam, and Dean felt twinge of a guilt hovering in his chest when he ended the call so abruptly, but Dean really, really wanted to spend time with Cas. And besides, Sam wasn't going anywhere.

"I see you've made good use of the bean bag chair I got you." Dean motioned to the lump of red in the corner where it remained untouched. "You know, it's not just for decoration, Cas."

When Cas didn't say anything, Dean nodded once and reached over to his bag, dumping the contents out and searching through them until he found what he was looking for. He opened his laptop and waited for it to boot up before turning back to Cas.

"Hercules." Dean announced, holding a DVD up. Cas looked up with a quizzical face.

"I sense that 'god' isn't the right answer here, seeing as you've left your textbook in the dorm." He went back to reading the textbook and Dean reached over, kicking it closed with his foot. Cas sighed.

"Remember when we first met?" Dean rubbed his socked foot over Cas' thigh, waving the DVD high in the air and raising his eyebrows.

"It's not exactly difficult to forget." Cas smiled up at him and Dean ruffled his dark hair with his free hand.

"Aw, look what you've done to me. Okay, okay, so Hercules. The movie. You. Watch. Now." Dean took the disk out and tossed the empty DVD container to Cas and the boy held it in his hands expectantly.

"Why?"

"Because nothing beats sassy gospel singers and sassy Hades."

"Dean."

"I'm serious, Cas." Dean bent down to plant a chaste kiss on Castiel's lips before walking over to his laptop and popping the disk in.

"As am I, but I have a mythology test next week that I must study for. I don't have time for a movie."

"Cas, if you wanted to study, you'd be doing that already and ignoring me." Dean said absently, back half turned to Cas.

"Well, you _are_ very hard to resist."

"Thanks, babe." Dean gave him a thumbs up from behind his back. "And besides, this _is_ studying for mythology. You know, gods and such."

"And such?"

"Well, all the characters are pretty badass, especially Meg." Dean put an arm around Cas and clicked 'Main Menu' when the DVD loaded.

"Dean, this is animated. I didn't think you seemed like the type…" Cas trailed off, leaning onto Dean's shoulder and shifting until he was comfortable.

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for Disney movies."

* * *

An hour and a half later finds Dean dozed off, head somehow resting on Castiel's lap while Castiel carded his fingers through Dean's hair. The end credits were rolling, and Castiel just couldn't bring himself to wake Dean even though his leg was turning numb and he was in need of a piss.

So Castiel decided to do what anyone as as lucky as him would do. He reached down and pressed his lips to Dean's own, mouth moving slowly at first, until Dean's lips became soft and damp beneath Castiel's own. Castiel flicked his tongue out, tasting, exploring every inch of Dean's face that he spent so much time memorizing.

Dean continued to sleep soundly, hot puffs of breath touching Castiel's lips when he kept kissing Dean, and then Castiel's kisses became more frantic, hands reaching out to hold Dean's face and pull him closer like he was afraid of losing Dean or afraid of not being enough for Dean. It scared Castiel to think that someday Dean was going to get bored and uninterested of him, and then Castiel found himself wrapping Dean up in a hug. He felt Dean smile against his hair.

"I'm not going anywhere, Cas." Dean said groggily, turning his head and pressing a kiss to Castiel's forehead. "I'm your Hercules, remember that, okay?" Castiel nodded. "Also, remember that I'm a strong and feisty badass motherfucker." Dean chuckled.

Castiel snorted and summarily dumped Dean off his lap, Dean falling into a fit of laughter when Castiel smacked his stomach with a pillow. He yelped and pulled Castiel down to the carpet with him, planting a noisy kiss on Castiel's lips. Castiel crinkled his nose and heaved off of Dean, ignoring Dean's protests when he opened the door to the bathroom.

* * *

_1965_

_The war is close, there's no denying_

_The time is near, and people are dying_

_If you get drafted, don't forget I'm here_

_Don't leave me back, alone in fear_

_Here's my picture, please keep it safe_

_And I'll be with you when you wake_

_"The helmet's nice. It suits you well."_

_But you didn't know how numb I felt_

_Hours and hours, I stayed up all night_

_Wishing and praying with all of my might_

_That you would come home and keep your promise_

_Tossing and turning, were you being honest?_

_Letters unsent, the pictures are fading_

_The years can pass by, and I still will be waiting_

_For your loud, clunky boots and lovely, crooked smile_

_Shots are being fired, mile upon mile_

_So promise me this, I hope you are listening_

_Open your ears, and stop with your whistling_

_Be like an ocean, washing up on the beach_

_And come back to me, darling, away from harm's reach_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

Woah, some angst I didn't mean to put in.

Also, my extensive knowledge on Greek mythology comes from Yahoo answers and Wikipedia, both of which are completely unreliable. If I'm wrong about anything, please tell me (the first answer is meant to be incorrect).

* * *

**1. Son of Clio and Pierus and lover of the god Apollo, which divine hero and Spartan prince of Greek Mythology was struck by a discus carried in the wind by Zephyrus out of jealously?**

_What in the ever living fuck?_ Castiel stared at the question. Reread it once, twice, then scribbled down _Thamyris_ on the blank line. He didn't remember reading anything about Greek Mythology, let alone Zephyrus or Apollo, in any of his textbooks. He was too busy—

Oh, that's right. Maybe it might have been a bad idea to let Dean distract him with kisses last night while Castiel was studying.

**2. Which 49 sisters of Greek mythology killed their husbands on their wedding night and are condemned to carry water in a sieve for all eternity?**

The blank line beneath the question seemed to stare back at him with the same dumbfounded expression displayed on Castiel's own face.

Curse professors for not believing in the lovely concept of multiple choice. At least then Castiel would have had a 20% chance (because A, B, C, and D aren't good enough, E came into the equation, but Castiel would take what he gets) of getting _something_ right. If he somehow passed this exam, Castiel would bow down and kiss the hell out of whichever ancestor, bless them, was watching over him.

Castiel looked up towards the ceiling, racking through his tired brain (taking a morning course that started at 7 and cramming for the final until four in the morning was probably the worst idea Castiel ever had) for anything that would help him. He was desperate at this point, just needing to fill in any answer, and he was only on question two. Pathetic.

Professor Barnes (or Pamela, as she prefers) passed by his desk as she circled the classroom making sure everyone's eyes were on their own papers. Castiel covered his paper with an arm, hoping Pamela wouldn't see how stupid he was for not knowing who Apollo's dead, gay lover was.

Who was Castiel kidding? Mythology was the easiest class he signed up for. He paid for the course with his own money, refusing to take anything from Gabriel, not wanting to be in his debt, and now Castiel was on the brink of failing the class and losing the three credits hours he needed to graduate the semester.

_Summer courses aren't an opinion with a full time job at Gabriel's club_, Castiel told question number five—**Hera took which Oread's (type of nymph residing in the mountains) voice and replaced it with the repetition of others' voices?**

_Think happy thoughts, Castiel_, said question eight—**Which Roman god within the Dii Consentes is the patron god of finance, commerce/trade, and communication?**

Castiel didn't even know what the fuck _Dii Consentes_ was. As far as he knew, the phrase could have meant "Team Free Will" or "The Breakfast Club" and he would have never known. He thoroughly searched every inch of his skull, mind drifting over to Dean, like it always seemed to end up after Castiel felt like he worked his brain too hard.

He remembered fondly of Dean bringing him a steaming hot cup of coffee the night before.

_Balthazar was out at Luc's dorm, cramming for both PSYCH and sociology finals, which, unfortunately for him, were in the same week. Dean's next exam didn't happen until a week and a half later, so he was casually sitting around on the floor of Castiel's dorm, making sure Castiel was comfortable at his desk ("You got enough light, Cas? I think Benny has an extra sharpener. If the chair's too uncomfortable, there's another special seat called my lap."), and occasionally making coffee runs for the both of them._

_"Winchester special." Dean took the pencil out of Castiel's hand, brushing back his dark hair and pushing a mug into his hands. "Lots of sugar. And cream. Just how you like it. Which I still find unethical. I mean, if you're gonna have coffee, at least drink it without all the, uh, " Dean waved his hand in the air and sat down on the bean bag next to Castiel's feet, "artificial flavoring. Then it's not coffee anymore. It's just ground beans mixed with sugar."_

_"Well, I enjoy ground beans mixed with sugar." Castiel retorted, taking a sip from the porcelain mug. The coffee traveled, more sweet than bitter, across his tongue, just how he appreciated it. "How'd you know I prefer it this way?"_

_"I—observe. With my eyes." Dean said lamely, leaning back to check the clock on the night table— 12:51am. He ran his socked foot over Castiel's leg as the boy went back to reading through his notes and textbook with sleepy eyes. "Drink up, asshat." Dean laughed. Castiel grunted, but took another sip._

_Castiel was vaguely aware of Dean shifting on the floor, silently begging for attention with the actions of his lips. He didn't stop Dean from kissing his neck, sucking dark hickeys that Castiel knew would be questionable to the person sitting in the row behind him tomorrow. When Dean became a little too handsy though, thumbs finding their way below the elastic of Castiel's boxers and rubbing circles there, Castiel grabbed his hands and pushed them away lightly._

_"Dean, I need you to let me concentrate."_

_"I'm not doing anything, jelly bean." He answered with fake modesty, blinking slowly up at Castiel from the floor. Dean reached up again, brushing his thumb along Castiel's coffee covered lip and the boy's breath hitched._

_"Of course you're not." Castiel breathed against the pad of his thumb. "Go someplace else, Dean."_

_"I don't feel like it." Dean pouted._

_"You are a child." Castiel scolded, turning his face away and nosing his foot into Dean's soft stomach._

_"But I'm awesome." Dean held a hand up and Castiel snorted. "What, no high five for being awesome?"_

_Castiel stuck his tongue out and Dean rose up on his knees, placing both hands on Castiel's thighs and leaning forward, poking the tip of his tongue to Castiel's own. Castiel's eyes fluttered shut._

_"That's not the high five I assume you meant." He murmured._

_"Don't care." Dean mumbled, threading his fingers through Castiel's overgrown hair and kissing him. Dean tasted like bitter black coffee, and it was wonderful._

_"You shaved." Castiel commented, pulling back. He traced his fingers over Dean's jaw._

_"I did. Just to annoy you, babe." Dean smirked and pressed his lips to Castiel's again. He scrunched his nose. _

_"You are very aggravating, you know that?"_

_"I think I'm adorable."_

_"Of course," Castiel continued, ignoring Dean's last comment, "that _is_ a primary aspect of your personality," Dean licked into his mouth, "so I sometimes choose to ignore it—Dean what are you doing?"_

_"Come to bed." Dean whispered throatily into his ear, closing the textbook with a hand and using the other to massage Castiel's thigh._

_"I can't." Castiel squirmed, using an unbearable amount of strength to push Dean's hand away. "I have work to do and an exam tomorrow morning—or later today, given that it's already one in the morning."_

_"_All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy_." Dean clicked his tongue and paused. "Fine. I'll just have to do my work here with you then, Cas."_

_"Your next exam isn't until…" Castiel trailed off, watching Dean crawl under the desk on his knees and part Castiel's legs. He spread them willingly to accommodate Dean kneeling between them and Castiel blushed when Dean looked up at him tiredly, a half smile dancing on his face, before nuzzling his nose in Castiel's crotch._

_"Dean."_

_"Hm?" Dean mouthed at his dick through the thin layer of boxers and Castiel gasped. Damn him._

_"De—Dean. Stop it. Let me take the test tomorrow and then I'll let you suck me off."_

_"Bossy." Dean answered, but crawled out from under the desk. He pressed a chaste kiss to Castiel's temple before plopping down promptly on Castiel's bed. "Don't stay up too late, Cas." He murmured, pulling the covers up and falling asleep within seconds._

The loud buzzer of the bell signaling the end of class rang through the room, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts.

"Time's up. Writing utensils down." Pamela announced, taking tests from tired students who all reeked of coffee, and from an especially grumpy blue eyed boy. Castiel slung his bag over one shoulder and headed towards the library to get a head start on his four hour shift.

* * *

Dean woke up alone, two identical, empty coffee mugs and a pair of glasses staring back at him. The cups left brown rings on the desk when he picked them up to rinse them out and brush his teeth (Dean was finally able to convince Cas to let him keep a spare toothbrush in his bathroom when he decided to spend the night—which he did, a lot actually). Dean would have stayed in Cas' dorm to meet him there after Cas' mythology class ended, but ran into a very pissed off Balthazar while refilling the ice bucket, and Castiel's roommate was in no mood to negotiate with Dean whether or not he was allowed to come back into the room.

So Dean stood desperately outside Cas' dorm room, waiting for him to come back, and feeling suspiciously like Balthazar from that night that seemed forever ago with Cas. Huh. Time really did seem to fly when you're in love.

Wait, what?

Woah, woah. This was Dean Winchester, who swore he would never fall in love. The rule was simple: go to college, get a degree, get a job, help Sam get through college.

But, _Cas._

* * *

Cas didn't come back to his dorm room, which Dean found out the hard way by standing up for an hour and half straight like an idiot. Cas had also managed to leave his phone still plugged into the charger, so calling him wasn't an option.

There was only one place Dean knew Cas would be, like the little nerd he was.

Dean practically ran to the library, and was friggin' relieved to see Cas' name on the sign-in sheet. He waved to the creepy old lady librarian who gave him a confused look and grim smile before returning to her computer, perfectly manicured fingers flying over the keyboard.

Dean found Cas behind the bookshelves, flipping through a mythology textbook, the same one Dean recognized he was reading when they first met. Cas was leaning on a cart piled high with books of all sorts, an oversized hoodie wrapping around his slim figure. Dean stared at Cas bent over in the dim light, liking the way his lip curled up when Cas concentrated hard enough on what he was reading.

Dean coughed. Castiel looked up.

"Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

"What, uh, what you doin'?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck, not bothering to walk across the distance of ten feet between them.

"Looking up my incorrect answers. Did you know Dii Consentes consisted of twelve major deities, six gods and six goddesses?"

"Uh, no. How many'd you get wrong?" Dean took a step forward.

"Twelve and counting." Castiel muttered, looking back to the book and turning to the next section.

"Well, that's not terribly bad. How many questions did you check so far?"

"Thirteen."

"Holy fuck, Cas. Which one was the lucky break? I'm gonna buy that one a drink."

"The one about Aphrodite."

"That's ironic. I remember you saying she was a witch, which I know now that she's not. Totally not a witch. Go anthro, right?" Dean fist pumped the air and took two steps forward, maneuvering himself until Cas was pressed a tight line down his side. He looked down to the textbook: _Apollo_.

"If I recall correctly, you said that, Dean." Cas smiled at him.

"Did I? Well, fuck. Maybe a kiss will jog my memory, babe." Dean tilted his head to the right and Cas caught his lips in a quick kiss.

"Dean, I am going to get fired if I don't, and I quote, 'Move your ass, Novak. College don't pay you to study.'"

Dean glanced at the pile of books in the cart. "Do we have to?"

* * *

An hour later found Castiel sitting in the empty cart while Dean pushed him around the library like a little kid in the shopping cart at Walmart. Dean was making car noises that sounded more like farts, and Castiel laughed until his sides hurt and the tears pooling out from his eyes were from joy and not failure. All the books were put up in their corresponding places, Castiel triple checked to make sure, and his shift didn't end for another thirty minutes so the duo decided to have a little fun.

They ended up in the back of the library again, sitting on the floor and talking quietly, and when Castiel's fear of failing his courses caught up to him again, he stilled.

"Cas? You okay? I thought we were having fun." Dean said lightly, then sensing the atmosphere had changed, he squeezed Castiel's hand lightly, trying to catch his eyes, but the boy looked away. "Hey, don't lock me out, Cas. I'm right here. Talk to me."

And Castiel thinks for a moment how he the hell he went through these past three years of college without Dean.

"Can we just…" Castiel turned, finally met Dean's gaze, and surged forward, pressing a hard kiss to Dean's lips. Dean opened his mouth and kissed back eagerly before pushing Castiel away.

"No. Talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind." He said, removing Castiel's hands away from where they've held on tightly to his shirt.

"Nothing." Castiel let go and smoothed the wrinkled fabric.

"Bullshit. What's going on, Cas? Honestly."

"What part of 'nothing' escapes your understanding?" Castiel snapped, and a flicker of emotion passed through Dean's eyes before returning back to their regular form.

"Cas…"

"Just—Dean, just touch me. Please. We'll talk later. I promise." Castiel grabbed Dean's hands and put them on his waist. Dean hesitated before setting his arms back on his sides.

"Why can't we talk now?"

"Why can't you just make me feel better?!" Castiel half yelled, half whispered. Dean frowned, and Castiel felt for a moment like he blew it with Dean, tipped their 'relationship', or whatever _this_ was, right over the edge of the cliff, where it smashed into a million pieces below, and the worst part was that Castiel couldn't even afford a damn broom and needle and thread to sweep up the evidence and sew it back together.

"I need you." Castiel hated how weak his voice sounded, like he was pleading for something he couldn't have.

But Dean said nothing. He looked like he wanted to say something more, talk about feelings and emotions, which Dean always tried to avoid, and Castiel was half prepared for Dean to stand up and walk away, the other half prepared for Dean to snap at him again. What he didn't expect was for Dean to lean forward and kiss him silently, harshly, so Castiel could feel his words, not hear him. He didn't expect Dean to pop the button on Castiel's jeans, or for Dean to pull his boxers down and wrap those sweet lips around around him, working Castiel to full hardness with his mouth and tongue.

Castiel gasped, head thrown back and banging against the shelf, muttering a low _fuck _when he came moments later, buried deep in Dean's throat, and Dean pulled off, licked his shining lips, and tucked Castiel's too sensitive dick back into his pants. He heaved himself off the carpeted dusty floor, rubbing his raw elbows from how he'd been propping himself up, then positioned himself next to Castiel, who was still shaking from the aftershocks, and wrapped an arm around him.

"I apologize, Dean." Castiel said a few minutes later, clinging to the fabric of his shirt and wiping tears he didn't realize he'd shed.

"Shut up." Dean answered and pressed his lips to Castiel's forehead. "You know you're hot when you're pissed. 'S not like I could have resisted you if I wanted to."

Castiel raised his head from where it rested against Dean's chest. "Did you want to?"

"No." Dean grunted. He held Castiel tighter and listened to the sound of their breathings. Castiel kissed Dean again then traced the outline of his face with gentle fingers, unlike the ones that gripped tight on his shirt minutes before.

"Dean, your glasses." He said suddenly, and shit, Dean didn't realize he left his glasses in Cas' dorm until Cas mentioned it just now.

"Doesn't that bother you? Not being able to see clearly without them?" Cas asked. Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, well, the world's kind of beautiful when it's blurred, Cas."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

Not exactly my best chapter since it's mostly a filler, but I'll try to fix it up if I find the time. Enjoy!

* * *

**[VOICEOVER]**

Sex happened on a regular basis for Dean and Cas, something so akin to a daily ritual, it seemed almost odd to skip. Sometimes they had sex twice in a day, or if they were really on a roll, three or four.

And forget about marathon weekends when Benny or Balthazar was out. No words exchanged, pants dropped, shirts flung carelessly to the floor. Dean and Cas only got up to eat or take a leak, then fell back into bed with each other, panting and moaning where no one could hear them. The duo ruined more towels than necessary, then found themselves making out in the Laundromat down the block, Castiel propped up on a washing machine while Dean's waist fitted snugly between his thighs.

Somehow their legs always ended up tangled in the bed sheets, mouths clashing, tongues tangling, and hands grabbing at, well, everything.

They've never taken _that_ step before, only the occasional enthusiastic blowjob, getting off mutually whenever Zeus gave them five minutes alone, and a rogue, lubed finger skirting and circling the edge of the rim, on which Cas pushed back desperately on, craving to be touched and stretched out just a little bit more.

They weren't afraid of taking it to the next level—only what the action might represent, which was a silent but mutual agreement between the two. They've already gotten over the fact that this, whatever "this" was, was not your average run of the mill fling.

So who knows what it meant for Castiel to have Dean's cock thrusting up his ass, or what it meant for Dean to be bottomed out in the tight heat of Cas' hole? What would it ensue? Commitment was an obvious no-no.

But as much as they both wanted it, _needed_ it, they didn't push past their limit. They knew what they wanted from each other, and that was good enough (hell, fucking fantastic enough) to know the spots that made them come undone with one touch, how Dean enjoyed having Cas graze his teeth over the soft spot behind his knee and ear, and how Castiel took pleasure from having Dean's callused hands rake down his sides, hard enough that it wouldn't tickle, but light enough to still cause his fucking heart to flutter.

_No chick flick moments_, another mutual rule. _Feelings shouldn't get in the way_, they remembered to remind themselves.

But then why did they find themselves still falling?

_Open up your parachute, something's gotta stop the free fall_

* * *

**_Concert Night_**

It's a tradition, Dean had explained, carried out on the last Friday of every month, where the Vocal and Visual Performance majors gathered students under the college's pavilion to show off voices that reached passed F6 on a piano ("The rendition of 'Take On Me' was fucking spectacular last month, Cas.") and to flaunt learned light performance skills ("They had like these LED, copper bromide laser sort of shit that was probably created by some secret, nuclear, underground Lightbender: The Fifth Avatar mafia and it just looked so friggin' sweet I can't explain.").

Dean's been to the concerts a few times over the year. Castiel hasn't at all, he admitted, which just encouraged Dean to spend the better part of the evening of April 25 convincing Castiel to go.

"You seriously don't know what you're missing, Cas."

"Quite certain I do, Dean."

Castiel reburied his nose back into the library's only copy of Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_: _No Fear Shakespeare_, fucking _determined_ to finish up his left-to-the-last-minute, two thousand-word exposition on _Comparing and Contrasting Early Modern through Contemporary English Language _that he had been hovering over and trying to complete for the past week.

"Oh, c'mon. You're no fun." Dean pouted, flopping down on the twin sized bed Castiel hated, all limbs loose and dangling over the edges of the mattress.

"You know I don't enjoy attending those events." Castiel tapped his pencil idly on the spine of the book, his back faced towards Dean.

"Well, I'll be there, so it can't be as bad as you think."

"You think you make everything better, don't you, Dean?"

"I _know_ I do." Dean answered, knowing Cas all too well enough to know he didn't mean the rhetorical question in a cruel way.

Dean sat up, leaning on his elbows and forearms. "Go with me, pretty please?" He pleaded for the third time. Castiel bit the pencil eraser into his mouth without meaning to, making a disgusted face before spitting the remnants out onto the carpet.

"The physical appearance of the word 'please' has no effect on my decision, Dean."

"Does the physical appearance of my hot bod have an effect on your decision?" Dean asked casually, ghosting circles onto Cas' back with his socked foot.

"There's a reason I'm not facing you."

"'Cos you can't resist _all…that…jaaaazz_." Dean sang the last part, recalling how his friend slash technologically-advanced-genius classmate, Charlie, had performed as Velma Kelly in January's _Chicago_ musical rendition_._

The back of Cas' head tilted to the side, the '_Why are you singing?' _left unsaid, and it took Dean a moment to figure out that Cas probably didn't understand the reference. "C'mon, man. You didn't go with me last month."

"We were still experimenting with each other last month, Dean. I knew you for a total of five days before the last Friday of last March."

"_Slick your hair, and wear your buckle shoes_." Dean continued, waving Castiel off. "_And all that jazz."_

Castiel turned to face Dean, brows drawing together. "Which songs will be covered for April?" He asked after a moment, curious, _obviously_ not because he secretly really wanted to go but was teasing Dean, and _definitely_ not because he wanted to make one hell of an impression on Dean's female friends (and if Castiel was a little possessive of Dean, no one had to know).

A slow smile spread over Dean's lips before he spoke. "Well, I'm not completely sure, but I heard from a little redheaded birdie that, uh, songs by _The Shins_ are being played, and I know you like your crazy, hippie indie music, which is very lame like you, so you should go with me and make it awesome instead."

"And if I still refuse to go?"

"You'll be lamer, and I will personally make you a gold medal for being the King of Lame, scratch that, P_rincess_ of Lame, and make you wear it around your neck every day, you nerd."

"I could use a medal." Castiel answered, and Dean laughed, falling back onto the bed with a sigh.

"Whatever, Cas. You're still a dork. _My_ dork, but still a dork."

Castiel smiled to himself and went back to reading. He sped read through the acts up until Casca's and Brutus' fatal stabbing of Caesar before setting the book down. Dean was snoring softly from a mound of pillows when Castiel drifted over to him, and Castiel narrowed his eyes, slightly disappointed. He could have sworn he'd only been skimming the book for ten minutes, but then again, no one Castiel knew other than Dean Winchester would have fallen dead asleep within that short of a time period.

"Dean?" Castiel questioned quietly, prodding at the space of bare flesh between Dean's shirt and where his jeans hung low on his hips. _God, was he fucking beautiful_, Castiel thought selfishly, walking his fingers up and down Dean's chest. Dean snorted then peeked an eye open.

"The hell you doin', babe?" He muttered sleepily. Castiel held back a grin, not answering his question.

"How'd you know I enjoy independent music?" Castiel tried to ask coolly, but a feeling of pride swelling in him instead when he realized that Dean had actually taken time to learn about the little things Castiel appreciated in life.

"Same way you know I'm still stuck in the mullet rock era." Dean stretched his arms over his head and rolled over. "There's still a whole bunch of crap I don't know about you, you know. You gotta tell me all about it someday. Like tonight."

Castiel set his chin on the edge of the mattress. "Well, knowing only my preferred genre of music is not crucial, Dean," he started. "Though I, for one, have noticed you unconsciously rub the back of your neck when you're nervous, you get a more than affectionate look on your face every time you see your brother's name on caller ID, you have a soft spot in your heart saved specially for Disney movies—" Castiel babbled.

Dean blushed, actually _blushed_. "Okay, okay, you can tell me more about myself on the way to the concert." He grumbled, embarrassed, but Castiel didn't miss the smile hidden beneath his words. There was a long list of odd but fascinating aspects about Dean, and Castiel wanted to etch each of them onto his skin so he could read them when he's alone and misses Dean.

"No, Dean. Let me finish or I'll—" Castiel paused, deciding whether or not to bring out the dirty side of his personality he knew Dean practically drooled over, like an eighteen year old boy over his prom date. "I will tie you to this bed and run my hands all over your body and lick you and suck you until you're begging me for release and—"

Dean's eyes widened. "Is that a threat, Cas?"

"I am—I don't—I don't want to label it as a threat. More of a verbal persuasion."

"So this—your idea of giving me blue balls is supposed to prevent me from taking you to the concert." Dean said flatly.

A pause.

"Right. Don't threaten me like that again, Cas."

"Or what?" Castiel countered.

"Or I'll just have to shut you up." Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist, pulling him down onto the bed. He hovered above Castiel, barely brushing their lips together, knowing it would drive Castiel crazy just feeling their breaths intermingle. It drove Dean a little crazier than Castiel too, but he'd never let Castiel have the benefit of the advantage over Dean. "This is what you get for being a fucking tease, babe." Dean ran his tongue over the seam of Castiel's lips, and Castiel's eyes fluttered shut.

"It's only a tease if it gets you hot." Castiel whispered against Dean's mouth, sucking in a breath. "Please? Just one little kiss and I promise to go."

"_Only_ if you come and stop quoting the friggin' Breakfast Club. Capisce?."

"I capisce. And oh, but, Dean, I did come this morning. And I don't exactly understand how you've possibly managed to forget that fun adventure we had, but I can refreshen your memory if you'd like." Castiel deadpanned, turning them over so he was on top. He bowed his head and instantly attacked Dean's mouth with his own, a reminder of morning and a promise of tonight.

"You little shit. Castiel Novak, I will drag your surprisingly firm ass to this concert if I need to." Dean laughed breathlessly when they broke apart, hand reaching down to slap Castiel on his behind.

"What mean'st thou by that, thou saucy fellow?" Castiel yelped in a broken English accent, trying to fight his way into smacking Dean's ass back.

"The clock hath stricken eight, my lord, and the night cometh upon us. 'Tis time to go." Dean answered without missing a beat, almost flawlessly, mimicking Castiel's tone and flipping them over again, pinning the boy's arms down to the mattress and kissing him open-mouthed again.

"You are hopeless, Dean Winchester." Castiel squirmed, turning his face, and Dean's lips met with a mop of brown hair.

"Only for you."

* * *

After Dean had finally and successfully managed to wrestle Cas into one of his band tees and mussed his bed head, they walked hand in hand across the campus. Dean didn't remember when they started doing that, holding hands. It felt nice though, the warmth of Cas' palm in his own with the occasional playful squeeze. Dean glanced down at their laced fingers, wondering if Cas ever thought about their hand holding as much as Dean did.

True to his words, laser lights bounced around every corner of the pavilion where the concert was set up. Smoke machines turned the atmosphere into a haze of blurred drunkenness, and Dean was more afraid of losing Cas in the crowd than accidentally stepping on someone. Someone was singing Depeche Mode's _Just Can't Get Enough_, and if Dean looked hard enough, he could just make out Charlie's red hair on stage.

"Damn bad idea wearing glasses with a smoke machine here." He told Cas, annoyed with the way his vision would fog up, then clear, only to fog up again.

Someone tapped his back and Dean whipped his head around, squinting through the fog as arms and perfume were wrapped around him.

"Hey, Losechester." Jo greeted him, then pulled back to hug Cas. "Wow, you actually got Novak to come out and join us. I've been trying to get him to go for months. What'd you do, Dean?"

"Magic." Jo rolled her eyes, mouthing _agua_ to Dean before sauntering off.

"_You're like an angel and you give me your love. And I just can't seem to get enough of._" Dean yelled more than sang, and Cas laughed, ducking his head as a beam of green light swept his face.

The last notes of the song died down, Dean repeating "I just can't get enough" about a billion times before the guitar riff ended and applause replaced the lyrics.

"You want a drink, babe?" Dean asked when they were able to talk again without sounding like they were practicing a ballad for a screamo.

"Yes. Do they have alcohol?" Cas demanded.

Dean gave Cas a strange look then chuckled. "This isn't a club, Cas. Some people here are still teenagers. I mean, I could check, but they probably only have like Koolaid or Coke or some other diabetic shit. W—why do you want alcohol anyway?"

"I've never had the experience of being intoxicated."

"Ever? No shit." Dean raised his eyebrows and Cas crossed his arms, something he always did when Dean was said something idiotic.

"I only turned of legal age in February, Dean, just shy of Valentine's Day."

"So, not even over spring break?"

"Of course not. I had no time to indulge. I was busy studying." Cas blew a lock of hair out of his face and Dean couldn't help but smile. The Outfields'_ Your Love _sounded through the air and Dean tapped his foot.

"Okay, goodie two shoes. I'm about 93 percent sure they only have virgin drinks, but, seriously, Cas. Not ever? Dude, I really need to get you roaring drunk someday."

"I look forward to when that time comes."

"But no way in hell am I nursing you through your first hangover." And, yeah, that was totally worth the adorable scowl from Cas.

_Try to stop my hands from shakin', something' in my mind's not makin' sense_

* * *

Castiel chugged his third can of Fanta down and used his thumb and fingers to create dents in the aluminum, then crushing it against his head just like how Dean had showed him. He let go of the smashed can with a satisfied smile and shot a three pointer into the nearest trashcan while Dean and Jo cheered him on.

"And this is why Cas is fucking amazing." Castiel heard Dean tell Jo above the music. It was hard to make out the expression on Dean's face through the smoke and lights, but Castiel didn't need to see his face to know Dean meant what he said.

Ash was on the stage this time, belting out, surprisingly well too, to Radiohead's _Creep_, and Jo was saying something about how much the song suited the mulleted, MIT-expelled, student rocker.

Castiel was still getting over the buzz in his body from chugging a full can of sugary, carbonated soft drink when Dean knelt down in front of him, back facing Castiel, and eased Castiel's legs over his shoulders. He held a tight grip on Castiel's knees before standing up slowly, Castiel going up with him.

"Dean!" He protested, hunched over Dean's head accidentally knocking his glasses off. Jo's expression changed from shock and amusement as she bent down to pick up Dean's glasses from the can littered grass.

Of course Dean thought he was strong and broad enough to allow Castiel to sit on his shoulders, and he damn well took that as a challenge. Granted, they were both a little wobbly, but Jo was able to steady them so they wouldn't topple over like dominoes.

"I can do this myself, Jo." Dean insisted, shoving the blonde's hands away.

"Yeah, right. Cas is scared shitless right now and you're blind as a bat, so would you just shut the fuck up, Ken doll?" She retorted.

"This was probably not the best place to try this, Dean." Castiel yelled down. He was still holding onto Dean's hands for dear life.

"Yeah, sorry, babe. I should have thought through this before." Dean answered. Jo snorted at his use of 'babe'.

"What're you laughin' at, Harvelle? I get to go home every night and get laid." Dean said and got a smack to his head by Castiel for his efforts.

* * *

The three sang, off-key that is, for a variety of songs (_Come on over here and love me, you know what I want you to say_) until Dean's shoulders ached for mercy and was in need of a massage. But the moment Cas' feet hit the grass, Dean took ahold of his hand and weaved their way in between the audience before stopping at Charlie, whispering something in her ear, then pointing at a very confused Cas. Charlie winked and walked up onto the stage, shoving Ash off.

She threw the microphone to Dean and he caught it with one hand, the other clasped around one of Cas' as they made their way onto the stage. Charlie wrapped an electric guitar's leather strap around her chest and started the opening notes of a song Dean knew all too well because of memories of him and Sam belting to it every morning during his high school years.

"This is dedicated to Cas because he's awesome for coming with me to this thing." Dean said quickly.

_"I'm_ c_oming out my cage and I've been doing just fine. Gotta gotta gotta be down, because I want it all."_ Dean snuck a wink at Cas before continuing. "_It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this. It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss."_

Then Dean pushed Cas off the stage.

* * *

_"Now I'm falling asleep."_

Castiel thought he was flying.

One moment he was standing on the edge of the stage with Dean, shifting his weight from foot to foot with the beat, then Dean shoved him off.

Castiel's initial thought was that this was revenge for giving Dean blue balls earlier, but then hands caught him and Castiel uncovered his eyes from where they were hiding behind his fingers.

Hands, hands, hands, and oh wow, that was a finger poking his ass. Repeatedly. There were too many palms touching Castiel's butt uncomfortably and none of them belonged to Dean. This is probably what Dean described at 'crowd surfing', Castiel remembered.

Castiel looked up to the stage and peered through the smoke, where Dean was half laughing and half singing at the mortified expression plastered on Castiel's face.

"_I just can't look, it's killing me." _Dean spit out between chortles of laughter. He shook his hips and stuck an arm out, pointing a finger while moving his arm horizontally and nodding his head to the beat.

Someone flipped Castiel over as he glided along, and then Kevin from Expository Writing held up his chest, Anna from Mythology 101 grasped his wrist, and Garth from Physics AB gripped his calves, until a very irritable Castiel had managed to find (surf?) his way back to the stage where Benny and Andrea struggled to push him back up. Dean took Castiel's hand and pulled him up all the way.

"_Destiny is calling me, open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm—" _Dean angled the microphone towards the audience and everyone shouted "_Mr. Brightside_" in unison.

Castiel clapped alongside everyone else and Dean pulled him into a hug as the song died down. Charlie gave them both sloppy kisses on their cheeks before starting out ZZ Top's _Gimme All Your Lovin' _and allowing Ash back on the stage.

Dean led Castiel back to their spot, all the while female students squeezed Castiel's ass using "couldn't get a chance to earlier" as a pliable excuse.

Castiel cheeks reddened. Dean liked that.

Jo was nowhere to be found, so the two sat down and listened to Ash's dwindling voice in the microphone as Charlie started playing for a softer tune.

"I love this song." Castiel acknowledged, head in Dean's lap, eyes closed. He felt Dean's hands brush the hair away from his face.

"I love…" Dean started, the uncertainty in his tone plain as day. Castiel eyes snapped open and Dean's hand paused. "…this song too."

Right.

Castiel tried not to let it show how much Dean's statement affected him in way he'd never felt before, looking up towards the starry night instead, fingers intertwining with Dean's.

_"Well, I guess it's only life, it's only natural." _Castiel sang softly. "_We all spend a little while going down the rabbit hole."_

* * *

**Songs Used/Mentioned:**

It's Only Life - The Shins  
Just Can't Get Enough - Depeche Mode  
Your Love - The Outfields  
Creep - Radiohead  
Don't Be Cruel - Elvis Presley  
Mr. Brightside - The Killers  
Gimme All Your Lovin' - ZZ Top


End file.
